The tress in the mountains look like the palette an artist used to paint autumn trees one afternoon. Splashes, splatters, spots & stains of gold, pink, blood red, mandarin orange, eggplant purple, an array of yellows I have never seen anywhere else, and I swear some leaves even turn blue. I recently painted a smörgåsbord of pumpkins various colors you could see in Farmington during the autumn season. My heart aches for it as I think back on my mother driving me through the roads of the Appalachian I can only imagine looking like black veins in a brightly colored piece of marble. I can't wait to move back and be home again. I completely somehow forgot to mention beautiful green quilts of land rolling over hills and kissing streams that wind and dash against riverbeds and boulders, through and down the mountain. Corn fields against every road...oh to be home.

I'm rebuilding my life in areas that need repairing, admitting I'm selfish and need self-control & seeing life in moments and taking them preciously.

I forgot to mention I once owned free running rabbits in the mountians...I had a dozen that turned into rabbits everywhere of diff. color and breeds. I know they are still making families there 15 years later, free to roam in the mountains & not in a cage. Free, how Pa makes me feel, everything makes sense there.