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.