My Love Letter to Virginia

I’ve been feeling pretty nostalgic lately. In less than two months, I’m moving to Tennessee, and even though this has been the plan for a while, it’s finally starting to sink in. 

I tend to be a bit of a “go go go” person, so I don’t always take the time to soak in my surroundings. But lately, I’ve been slowing down. With each restaurant I visit and each walk I take, I remind myself that it could be the last time. 

I stopped listening to podcasts on my daily walks so that I can admire the beauty around me. It’s been raining a lot, and today I noticed the river rushing higher than normal and the still pools of water forming over the fallen leaves like glass.

I go to some of my regular spots and think about all of the moments I’ve shared with friends and family over the past 2 years. I’ve had a lot of moments—a range of moments. Bonding with my Mom and Aunt over dinner. Bad first dates. Getting laid off from my job with friends and ditching the rest of the workday to bar hop and drink margaritas and gin. (It’s a long story, but my heart was so full that day. I was so happy I couldn’t sleep.)

Beyond these special memories with the people in my life, Virginia has offered me the solitude and magnificent beauty my heart had been craving. The first time I walked downtown there was fog and a golden glow stretching across the foot of the town. Lynchburg’s mountain view made even a car ride to Domino’s special. 

I have passionately exclaimed to the locals over and over how lucky they are to grow up in such a beautiful state. I can’t fathom how this beauty gets old, and I’ve begged them not to forget it. (I’m sure I annoyed many of them too.)

This morning, I finished my work early and drove down to the blackwater creek trail for a walk. I wrote this in my notes app while perusing the trail:

My goodbye letter to Virginia:

Tall trees with leaves falling like snow.

Sweating in November.

The kind of place I would have loved as a kid. 

The kind of place I would have teleported to.

Caves, cliffs, vines, and rock.

Trees providing a protective fortress.

Wooden signs.

Bugs that bite.

It was exactly the magic I needed.

I’m so grateful for this chapter of my life and I appreciate each imperfect moment with every fiber of my heart.

Here’s to the future!