It's been raining for nearly 24 hours straight. To some of you this may be commonplace. For me, it's a first. Though it is lovely, it only highlights the extreme homesickness I've been battling over the last few weeks.
The leaves are changing here. It's beautiful, but I can't help but think of the fiery beauty that is Nebo Canyon or Spanish Fork at this time of year. Or the way that the mountains are slowly being repainted gold and scarlet.
I miss the way the air smells, still dry and hot but with hints of earthiness that only exists when the seasons are changing from Summer to Fall and Winter to Spring. The air here is too humid to smell of anything but leaf-rot.
I miss the haze of forest fires, the burning in my nose and tickle in the back of my throat; the violent orange of the clouds and moon and the false flurries of ash.
I miss the mountains.
I miss Cafe Rio and Malt Shops and really shitty Mexican food. I miss the good stuff, too. I miss knowing how to get around and logical street layouts and the stars. The food here, well, it has come up lacking. Baltimore drowns out the stars.
I miss hanging out at Barnes and Noble in Orem and listening to people talk. People here don't sit still long enough to be observed. I miss White Chocolate Mocha with Hazelnut from the Coffee Pod and their slightly psychotic live music. I miss my friends.
I miss my family.