we had been looking forward to it all week—driving up the canyon for the Christmas festival in Silverado, and a stop at the tree farm. the festival was a street fair with crafters & makers selling their wares and a wagon ride. all the locals were catching up with one another in their bolo ties and cowboy/girl boots. their's is a quieter, slower pace, and it was obvious that these people really loved where they lived. it wasn't a place they just ended up in by chance. it was the place they wanted to belong to, the kind of place you move to on purpose. it felt like we were several hours away from our home. across state lines, instead of just a quick 20-30 minute drive.
at the tree farm we walked Wyatt through the rows of trees. because of course he doesn't let us carry him around anymore...he has to be moving his little legs, feeling the ground under his feet and holding our hands so tightly all the while. we breathed in the beautiful clean air and the mountain views, and decided next year maybe we'd get a tree from a tree farm. freshly cut!
we drove home, and i can only think of one word to describe the feeling of coming back down out of the canyon: deflating. haha, that sounds a little more depressing than it actually was, but coming back down to the crowds and the traffic and the melee will do that to a girl. silverado is always such a pleasure.