Walking into town from home looks a little different than it did before the move. There are no sidewalks for most of the way, but not much in the way of traffic, either. It’s noticeably downhill, and significantly uphill on the return trek. There’s no way to ignore that I’ve moved from coastal Massachusetts to the Vermont mountains.
I don’t know the people who live in the houses I pass as I walk, but we share the road to town. We are connected by that common path, and by the town at the end of it. We share this time and place, strangers related by era and address. I don’t know what adventures I’ll share with these new neighbors-in-time-and-place, but I know that their lives are sacred if yet unknown to me. And that’s quite enough for now.