I find myself re-falling in love with California all the time — the sun, the views, the quirky charm. And if I had a box dedicated to our relationship (not that I've ever had one of those), then this weekend with its simple, perfect memories would definitely make it into that sentimental shoe box.
We had a few friends over for dinner each night, laughing over long, lingering meals and sipping beers until the sun went down. Mornings we spent running through our new neighborhood, soaking in the stillness. Yesterday really takes the cake, though, because yesterday we went to the Marin mountain play to see a performance of The Sound of Music at the very top of Mt. Tamalpais. It was surreal, absolutely incredible — such a pinch-me, only-in-California moment — and as we hiked our way out of the theater surrounded by sweeping views of the Pacific, I felt my breath catch in my throat.
This is home, I thought. I can't believe I get to call this place home.
There's nothing quite like the comfort of feeling like you're exactly where you're supposed to be, like after years of wavering and wandering, you've suddenly slipped right into place.