I was tempted to do some herb then snap pictures, but I don't think it would have been appreciated.
From a high angle. Ahem.
Looking down on the Chemung River Valley on the border of Pennsylvania and New York, as the river turns almost due south. Taken from the balcony of our room, perched on the side of Waverly Hill. Last weekend, I remembered how beautiful it was back at the old homestead.
My favorite room, my favorite spot, in our house. The chair on the right is the spot I find myself those mornings I awake in bed, rather than drive home from work. It's comfy, it's open. It's home.
Lisa contemplates escape. Even the most velvety smooth prison, even those we make for ourselves, is still a prison.