Back on the Mountain

The Mountain restores my soul.

It sounds overly dramatic and maybe it is.  Still, as I sit outside on the porch at Stirling's Coffee House at 8 a.m., temperature in the high 60's, sipping my coffee, it's absolutely the way I feel.  In spite of the fact that I have a full day of remote work ahead of me back at the house on Florida Avenue, I feel relaxed.  At peace, as I listen to a couple of women sitting around the corner, talking quietly and drinking coffee.  Thanks to the open service window, I can hear the Sewanee students working in the kitchen at Stirling's, talking and laughing. 

It's so peaceful, here, watching the birds and gazing out at the trees surrounding the porch at Stirling's.  Sewanee is just now waking up, it seems, on a sleepy, late summer day on campus.  Fall semester doesn't start for a couple of weeks, so campus is relatively deserted, at least compared to what it will look like when all of the students arrive.  I love it up here this time of year.  Actually, I love it up here every time of year. 

A pleasant, early morning breeze tickles my skin, reminding me, perhaps, that fall is within sight, so though still quite a distance away.  It doesn't feel like early August this morning, which is part of the reason I am here.  The bells are ringing at All Saints' Chapel for reasons unbeknownst to me.  Maybe they're welcoming me back . . . home.  I could sit here forever.

I worked all afternoon yesterday at the house, as it rained outside.  For no apparent reason, I listen to Springsteens' "Born to Run" (1975).  Poetry set to music.  A little after 5 p.m., I went for a run, past the football field, the baseball field, the equestrian complex, and back to the house.  I didn't feel great and the run was a struggle but I got it done.  That seems to be the pattern for me this year as it relates to running.  Get the three miles in, a little slower than in the past, but get it in.

The house on Florida Avenue is very short walk away from the football field and the Fowler Center, which the boys would love.  I hadn't realized that when I arrived yesterday because I drove from the other end of Florida Avenue.  It's also the same short walk to the trailhead for Abbo's Alley, which Jude would love.  It's one of her favorite, easy nature walks.  It runs right through the heart of campus.  I might even walk it later.  

After a glass or two of a fabulous red wine that I hadn't run across in a while - Hamel Family Wines - I drove a few through Sewanee Village to Judith Tavern for a late dinner.  I read the New Yorker on my iPad while I ate, which was a perfect way for me to unwind.  When I got back to the house, I finished reading "Think Twice" on my iPad.  It's the latest Harlen Coben plot driven thriller from the Myron Bolitor series.  One of my old favorites.  

And, I guess, that's what this weekend is about for me.  A chance to unwind.  To recharge my batteries.  To regain my sense of perspective about work, about family, about . . . life.  I need to get re-centered.  I plan to go to church on Sunday at All Saints' Chapel so, hopefully, that will help.  Losing Lance Jennings knocked off my equilibrium.  I knew he was going to die but when it happened, suddenly, it jilted my sensibilities in a way.  For what I hope will be a short time, I lost my sense of perspective.  

To quote John Mellencamp's album (1980), "Nothin' Matters and What if it Did?"  That's kind of the way I've felt the last couple of weeks.  

Now, I'm watching a middle aged couple across from me who have set up shop, waiting for their coffee.  They've pulled two circular tables together, opened up their laptops, and are engrossed in a conversation about . . . what?  Funding and operating a non-profit, maybe?  Him, stickers on his laptop, baseball cap, beard, and tattoos, wearing flip-flops.  Her, hiking boots, but off denim shorts, and a Carley Meade style bottle of water, undoubtedly filled from her tap at home.  

People at Sewanee are interesting.  Students, professors, locals, visitors.  They just are.  

It's almost 9 a.m. now.  Time to get up, make the two minute drive back to the house, and get to work.  After all, I'm an Attorney in Residence, at least for yesterday and today.  

Tomorrow and Sunday are for me.