I’m writing this from the summit of Mount Washington. It’s Tuesday, October 13. Most of the world is at work. We’re on top of the tallest moutain on the east coast.

Something seems right about this. Something seems right about everything. Maybe it’s the thin air talking. I have these moments of clarity in my life. They are as fleeting as the clouds that pass right around us. You can see them, you can feel them, but you can’t hold them still. They are undeniable.

This feels like home in a way that so called normal everyday life never did.