We didn't leave Maine until late. A blessing, really, considering the holiday traffic. We settled into the drive, catching our breath from the bustle of the day, the week, the month. We began catching up with each other and the million and one small details and little thoughts that were lost as we rushed around our too-busy lives. The fatigue finally caught up with us in the wee hours, just as we hit the Pennsylvania state line. We crawled into our warm sleeping bags in the back of the truck, snuggling in close to stave off the freezing night air. We watched as our breath first fogged the windows and then crackled into web-like crystals, burrowing deep into our coziness.
I am so grateful for the shelter in my life. The shelter of a home that keeps us toasty and dry. The shelter of a vehicle that provides traveling refuge in the middle of the night. The shelter of a love that frees me to dream and risk and laugh when all goes awry. The shelter of friendships that stand the test of time.
What shelter do you seek?