I sat on the old refurbished wooden floor of Sarah and Brian's restored farmhouse with a Magic Hat in one hand and chopsticks in the other looking at a packed bowl in front of me. I made it. It had been one of the most trying days imaginable, but I somehow managed to find my way home.

It's funny how we slip into old habits and dynamics so organically. I lived with Sarah and Jessie my senior year of college and completely forgot the quirky harmony of our personalities. But as we sat back and lounged around in Sarah's living room it was all so familiar. We fell right into our old routine with Jessie and I in a sarcastic battle of wits and Sarah on the sidelines trying to steal our attention away from our self-indulgent game. Oh man. I was in stitches.

I awoke to the crisp, cool breeze of an autumn morning and grabbed for a hoodie as I forced myself out of bed and down the stairs following the scent of freshly brewed coffee. This is not how I remembered late summer mornings even in upstate New York. Apparently a cold front was sweeping through the region. I immediately worried about my packing selection as it consisted of mainly summery clothes based on faulty weather predictions, but oh well. Sarah and I plopped ourselves down in the living room. We drank coffee, ate freshly baked bread and played Chinese checkers as we eased into the new day.

We ventured out for a morning walk as I marveled at the mountainous horizon and felt distinct pangs of nostalgia for what was once so available in my day to day and is now missing from my view. The air felt fresh and crisp from the morning chill as it filled my lungs on our brisk walk through the park and out onto the neighborhood streets. I listened as Sarah relayed to me all the small town gossip, but I couldn't help but find myself distracted by a self-analysis that soon became a prevailing theme in my travels east.

There is something so honest and familiar to me about the northeast with it's crunchy country towns, mountainous back roads, and renovated farmhouses. It hurts to feel so far away from this picture of home, but I suppose the distance and my endeavors elsewhere are what allow me to appreciate it all, and I definitely do appreciate it.

When we got back to Sarah's house we browsed through her vegetable garden, a colorful assortment of tomatoes, green beans, and herbs nestled in a patch between a garage and a large inviting hammock. We plucked off ripe tomatoes and beans and tossed them in a wicker basket.

The aesthetics of her home reflects the simplicity of this small country town. It's a wonderful, calming setting, and I was glad to spend some time there at numerous points in route to various places on this trip. It's the kind of place that reminds me to slow down and appreciate the little things in life.