the two sides to my story

The air today feels like summer in the Rockies....cool and dry and sunny. I am packing today. Every time I put things in boxes, it feels a little more real, a bit more probable. It is difficult for me to live these two lives...or maybe it isn't. Maybe it's what I was made for. To be Christian and Pagan, farmer and traveler. When I am in the garden or the woods or the fields in August, I want to stay and make plans to cultivate. And I know, although I have been avoiding the thought for months, that winter will come here again and staying means living through that miserable, lonely, dark part of the year. I have been avoiding the reality of time passing and the dichotomy of storing up for winter and preparing to leave the state.
It is coming to a head. The ending summer is not just the end of ease and comfort and bare feet and colorful gardens and wind in the leaves and the sounds of insects and birds......it is also facing my hopes of leaving and starting something else, somewhere else. I long for it and fear it.