I spent my formative years amongst the moraines of the Upper Midwest and Wisconsin. Weather that one could sink one's teeth into, trees that filtered down enough shade for our huge family reunions, and green grass yards that produced more knee stains than Tide has ever dreamed possible within one family. Those years and my youthful days on the small central Wisconsin dairy farm were filled with discovery and wonder that was indelibly imprinted on my psyche but none more lasting than the visage of a dense hardwood forest wearing summer green livery. In the many succeeding years since, I have spent extended time in the Arctic wilderness, steaming jungles, blistering deserts and barren rockfalls but have always considered towering oaks and grassy meadows my personal home-y comfort zone. I would wager that many of us feel most comfortable with the topography we experienced as youngsters. Not that we do not acclimate and appreciate where we might be living at the moment, but those formative years leave an imprint that is not easily erased. AURORA grew up with swaying palm trees, salty sea air and the brown hills of Catalina Island. I wonder how she feels this morning looking out under that leafy branch at the wide expanse of green grass? Hey Old Girl, welcome to MY world!
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