Mürren

At some point yesterday, a grand scheme was hatched to visit a place known for its beauty and cultural significance in a nearby town. But at 2 am, I awoke and realized that with only a few days left I cannot leave this valley. Our life here happens at walking speed, except for our few failed attempts to go to a big city of say, you know, 5000 people. When we do ride the bus, it is only to Lauterbrunnen, which now feels like a trip to New York, though it has only 2500 people. Even the cog wheel trains into the mountains run on a gear.

Nothing is fast here in the valley. Nothing is supersized. I cook in our little Swiss sized kitchen with a mini refrigerator and no microwave. If you want bread, you can go to the camping store across the road and order it to be delivered fresh the next day. Across the street, the farmer sells the fresh milk he gets from the cows we visit every day.

I am already anxious about re- entry. Usually as we approach the end of a vacation, I am anxious to come home. This is the first place I have ever been where I don't want to leave. I told Tim before we left that my greatest fear in coming here was not of the paraglider but that I would never want to leave. That fear had been realized. I am living in the Elven kingdom here.

So today, as I write this to you with tears I can't explain, I decided to send you pictures of our home away from home.

You, our friends, our family, are what calls us back to our abode... but in my heart, this is the only home I will ever know ... it took a lifetime to find it.Читать далее