It was immediate.
The blast of cold air enveloping my lungs. The explosion of color delighting my eyes. The symphony of rustling, crunching leaves. And the sensation of elevation.
I was home.
I had packed their coats and forgotten my own. I had books for them and none for me.
It took 6.5 hours to make a 3.5 hour trip with four children, but I didn’t care.
I was lost, until I arrived in the fall mountains, and was found.