Back Where I Began

Home, finally home, and what a journey. It is hard to believe it is over. I don't think I have really come to terms that it is, actually, quite finished. On the other hand, it was such a radical, life-changing experience that I guess it will never be over; it will always be a part of who I am, and so in a small way, I guess the journey continues.

I feel Tahoe was such an appropriate place to end this trip, a place to come full circle, not just in physical location, but in a sort of personal and spiritual sense as well. We all carry our homes with us, all of the good, all of the bad. We know the best spots to go to eat, to hang out, as well as to hide. We know all the exciting things to do, but that didn’t keep us from getting so bored at times; when the time came, every one of us was itching to leave home behind, even though that didn’t mean we didn’t still love what we were leaving behind. One of the blessings of my life was to grow up in Tahoe. It is truly a very special place. I don’t say that to dismiss anyone else’s home, as I know it means the world to you. It is a special thing to get a glimpse into a home that someone loves, especially when you have been able to do it all over the world. However, Tahoe just offers things that other places cannot, but while the imagery may be different, I think you will find the sentiment familiar.

I find the idealization of memory a curious thing, as the negative just seems to fade away while the positive stands firm. I think this is my memory of Tahoe. Sometimes in the present moment I find the same feeling as I do in nostalgia, especially when I am out exploring Tahoe’s beauty. Other times, as our already small community continues to diminish, and the inevitable tide of change comes rolling in, I can’t help but feeling like something precious has been lost, and it is only a matter of time before it is consumed entirely. Still, even though the subtle changes fashioned slowly over time may render a scene unrecognizable if you look away for long enough, look harder, and you will find hidden behind the veil of the past what new beauty has arrived. Through my idealized lens of memory, this is what home means to me (all photos are from Tahoe, although most are from before my recent wanderings):

Home is a big blue lake, too cold to swim in, but that doesn’t stop you from doing it, even in mid February;

Home is smiling to yourself when you hear people in grocery lines and in passing bragging about their epic weekend at Tahoe, or their planned trip up to a friend's 2400 square foot "cabin," knowing you live there, you grew up there, and the magic of the place is not just a weekend jaunt or an investment: it is your life, and it is you;

Home is warm summer days and cool summer nights. To us, 70 is hot, 80 uncomfortable, and we comfortably wear shorts when its in the 40’s...or just whenever;

Home is knowing how to make a fire without lighter fluid, and taking survival courses when you are 8 years old;

Home is Snowfest parades, ice cream eating contests mid-winter, and polar bear swims in the lake;

Home is a green forest blanketed in white after a winter storm, the snow clinging to the trees as if afraid of the heights at which it finds itself;

(I believe credit for this photo goes to Barry Jones. Nice shot)



Home is where the water is a brilliant blue in the deeps, an emerald green near the shore, so clear you can see down nearly 70 feet, so fresh that it tastes better out of the tap than any bottle of water you will ever buy in the store;

Home is colored clouds and alpen glow;









Home is an early morning sunrise setting the mountainsides ablaze;

It is a sunset run rampant in the sky, mimicked by the perfectly still waters of a serene mountain lake;

Home is having just as much fun sledding at 23 as you did at 7;

Home is never having a black night sky. A full moon will blaze brightly, its dull rays nevertheless cutting sharply through the forest canopy, making it one of the best times to go on a hike. A new moon yields the reign of the night to the glory of the stars, and a glimpse of the Milky Way will leave you breathless every time;

Home is the mountains. The clarity and beauty of their aerial views are gained only by struggling to make the climb, their heights only appreciated by the depths of the valleys beneath them. What an analogy to life;

Home is the patchwork of snow and trees on a mountain landscape;

Home is sitting next to a warm fire, caught up in the magical way the snow flutters to the ground. With the anticipation of no school, every snow-day turns you into a kid on Christmas morning…and even if there was school, we lived by the old proverb of it being better to ask forgiveness later than permission now;

Home is enduring the winter cold, snow removal, wind-burned cheeks, chapped lips, freezing lift rides through howling wind, all for the reward of a few turns in the fluffy, white powder;

Home is cutting your line through virgin snow, whooping out shouts of joy and bellows of involuntary laughter as clouds of snow engulf you with every turn. Here, a face shot is not a dirty word, and you wonder what people are chasing at the office rat race across the world: between two boards and a steep pitch of powder, you have found heaven on earth;

(not my photo, but an amazing shot)

Home is having a wilderness for a back yard. It is where heading out into that wilderness is not getting away from it all, but getting back to it;

Home is holding on for dear life on wicked tube ride across choppy Tahoe waters;

Home is catching a river trout in a mountain stream, grilling it up on well used pan over a wood fire, kickin’ back to enjoy the view of the setting sun, and enjoying the best tasting meal you will ever have;

Home is that peaceful, easy feeling on a colorful summer’s day, the tranquility of fall after all the tourists have gone home, the crispness of the winter air, and the rebirth of life as spring sheds its winter coat of snow;

Home is sharing all the wonder with friends. It is the bond between friends who still stare speechless at Tahoe’s beauty even though they have seen it a thousand times, and it is watching the emotions go through the face of one who sees it for the first time;

Home is Tahoe. And I’m back home.