It feels like the first of October. It’s a crisp 55 degrees, nestled into the mountains of West Virginia. I believe it is Hurricane Joaquin that has brought on all this rain.
I live in the northern part of WV; and, the locals will tell you that these aren’t mountains, these are hills. I just moved down here from Northeast Ohio. So to me, a hill is something I lay on; and, I look up towards the clouds in amazement. A hill is something I sled down in the winter. These are mountains. They have roads that make you feel like you’re cruising on a roller coaster. The ups and downs, the whips and weaves. Most of the riders drive fast; because, they know the land. Me, I’m like, I don’t know what’s around that bend? Oh! Look, it’s a drop off, below you lay the woods! That is not a hill! You can’t convince me otherwise.
If these aren’t mountains, then one day I’ll surely have to visit some mountains!
I’m impatiently waiting on a Skype chat with my boyfriend. I’m thankful I managed to finish this post in time; because, there goes that sweet text message to say he’s on. Fall is going to be tough to go through without him near me.