Planted

The change of seasons is here and with it I noticed a change in the social scene - summer friends are gone and ski friends have not arrived.  Irene had a scattering effect too - friends have relocated (temporarily or longer), abandoned the mountaintop altogether, or died.  The GNC don't care, though - we adjust, not the mountains.

After eight years here, I understand now why the "real" locals consider so many good-intentioned full-timers "transient".  Folks arrive with the intention of becoming permanent residents, but they when they discover the full meaning of mountaintop living in the GNC, they have second thoughts.  After a season or two, they're down in the valley or back to the city or "out West".

Not me.  I'm staying.  I've survived extreme temperatures, 7-foot snowstorms, 20 consecutive days of rain, Irene and the weeks after her, power outages long, short and numerous, mosquitoes as big as tacos, spider bites, several varieties of poison weeds, backed-up septic tanks, dog fights, tax hikes, mud slides, road closures, noisy neighbors, no television, mail delivery, dry cleaner or Starbucks, nosy bears, clogged culverts, pump failures and maybe the worst of all, road kill skunk in the driveway.  If that doesn't chase you back to a junior-4 in a high-rise, nothing can.

Last night: clear skies, bright stars, full moon, slight breeze moving clean air, cool temps, fresh water running nearby, nature's sounds of silence, 600,000 acres of forever-wild forest for a back yard and no skunk.  If that doesn't plant you here, nothing can.