I recently returned from an extremely abbreviated trip to the hills of Pennsylvania this past weekend. And though very brief, it was most certainly enjoyable.
Friday afternoon was spent winding west over interstate 86 on a crammed Shortline bus. Despite the bothersome travelling situation, the sights were quite lovely. The further away from the city the bus ventured, the prettier it became. The afternoon sun's rays seemed to throw a golden hue over the trees and fields, while shadows were cast in all the perfect places.
|Dad's 560 Farmall in field behind the barn|
Yes, it was beholding this backdrop that I started to get that familiar rush of adrenaline and excitement. I was going home! Home - away from the hustle and bustle, concrete, and blaring vehicle horns; to a land of pickup trucks, trees, mountains, dirt roads, wide open fields and wild flowers.
It was one day and two nights of seeing my hilarious family, being around their familiar sense of humour, and laughing our heads off. I was also able to leave behind the salad and veggie burgers, and feast on mom's homemade vittles - pancakes, macaroni & cheese, and ice cream sundaes.
|My nephew, Ondrej, and 'maddie'|
And so my weekend ended all too fast - for it was with melancholy heart that I pulled out that rainy Sunday morning. Time to head back to New York City.