Love the One You're With

I sit here at what I lovingly call the "Holgate Bed and Breakfast" aka my grandparents home in Cedaredge, Colorado. Don't worry, nobody else knows where that is either. Hence the magic. They live in the middle of nowhere. I often tell people they live outside of Grand Junction, when in fact their home is about an hour and half outside of Grand Junction. My grandfather is, for lack of a better, more loving term, a hermit. Which is one thing I so lovingly and willingly inherited from him. I'm a homebody. There is probably nothing I love more than curling up at home with a blanket and a good book, a movie, an athletic competition, or a great friend and some conversation.

So I find myself here, in the middle of nowhere, sitting on the porch, wrapped in my colts blanket, contemplating what it is I love about this place so much. It does not possess the majesty of the snow covered mountains I see outside my window every morning and, although am hard pressed to admit, absolutely love coming home to after a long trip. It does not contain the immense and beautiful architectural genius of the skyscrapers contained within those large cities I love so much to visit and imagine myself living in one day. Nowhere in sight is the breathtakingly gorgeous clear blue waters I have beheld on the beach in Haiti. So what is it? It's the stars you can see because we are miles and miles away from anything resembling a city. It is the sounds of my nephew laughing in the next room and who, despite my best efforts, continues to call me Carlee. It is the complete quietness I hear as I sit on this porch. It is the long hug I receive from my grandmother and my very reserved but loving grandfather. It's the fact that I have terrible cell service here. It is the solitude. However, despite this word, solitude, and the fact that I associate this place with it, I find the reason I love this place so very much is because of those I am here with.