The Magic of Coming Home

The Magic of Coming Home

This week’s five days of heavy rain and thunderstorms across the Southern states has taken a high toll on Louisiana residents in the western and central parishes, especially. At our home, the backwater from the Red River is posing a temporary inconvenience by blocking our driveway. We respond resourcefully with a four-wheeler and two small aluminum boats, skillfully transferring children and bags across the water. This change in our routine reminds me of the magic of “coming home,” especially to a house in the woods.

Our driveway
Our driveway

The water creates a liminal experience; time slows perceptibly. During the four-wheeler ride through the forest (the new shortest route home) last night I felt transported into another time and place. Liquid drops clung to the branches and leaves, and moistened the pine thatch that covered the trails. We chanced upon moss wrapped around the foot of a tree, it’s opening to the earth evoking thoughts of fairy creatures. My nine-year old and husband name it “Mrs. Tittlemouse’s house” after the beloved Beatrix Potter story.

Mrs. Tittlemouse

Finally, I see our home rising out of the landscape and feel that moment of elation, “I’m home.”

Passe Partout March 2016 017


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