This week has been long and short at the same time. I've been getting back into the groove of daily life, thinking and thinking and then thinking again, having some of the best conversations, some mostly sleepless nights, and some of the biggest belly laughs. On my day off Wednesday, I wanted to a little bit of head clearing-upping, so I decided to drive up to a state park I hadn't been to before - Franklin Delano Roosevelt State Park. It was pretty lovely to walk around all of the fields and tree-shaded pathways. We searched and searched for a path to the lake, and when we finally found it, it didn't disappoint. I spent a while just sitting on the lone bench they'd placed beside it, watching the mostly-still reflection of the trees on the water surface, glancing over at the man and his golden dog playing fetch with a real stick. It was nice, but I couldn't fight the urge to drive a half hour further north, to Bear Mountain. I've talked about this place so many times on my blog now, that you may remember it. Honestly, the top of Bear Mountain is one of the places I feel most right, most at home. It was a relief to see those rocks and that tree-swept sky and that watchtower. Sitting on that rock ledge and just breathing and looking made me feel so much more at ease, even if just for a little while. I could have stayed there for an awfully long time, and right now I mostly wish I was back on that rock ledge, just listening and looking. I've never seen it at night. Guess I'll just have to make a trip back. If it wasn't an hour and a half drive away, I would probably be there at least once a week. It's weird to think how a place I didn't even know existed this time last year has become such a comfort to me. Hopefully someday I'll get to live somewhere where the mountains and forests aren't as far away as they are here.