Paradise, thy name is New Hampshire

The past four days I was completely out of touch with all friends and family except for the few with whom I was staying, at the World Fellowship Center, the tagline of which is Where Global Justice Meets Nature.

I soaked in nature, reveled in it, biked it, drank it, ate it, partied and laughed in it, swam in it... all but became one with it.

some of the memories that stand out:

• floating on my back in the middle of Whitton Pond and gazing up at the blue sky and clouds while the water cradled me
• getting coached by Bike Guru Howie on three consecutive days of progressively more difficult bikerides. (the second two being at six in the morning!)
• learning how to properly get on and off a "tall bike" - as I always used to keep my seat way too low... (again from Bike Guru Howie)
• greedily gathering wild blueberries at Whitton Pond and enjoying their plump blue-purpleness as they popped in my mouth
• watching little M (my friend's daughter) enjoying wild blueberries for the first time
• sharing the amazing World Fellowship food with friends who are family - and getting to share laughs with Galia about my odd food preferences (I think I was the only adult to request peanut butter and ketchup!)
• relishing the musical offerings of Tomas Rodriguez (Spanish and Flamenco Guitar), mbira master Kevin Nathaniel Hylton and percussionist Urbano Sanchez
• delighting in the prettiness of the white goat
• getting scared (in a good way) as I got pushed by G. in the t-a-l-l swing that's hung high up in a tree
• watching four year old S. and 2 year old M. each dance and delight in the music in her own way as the dining hall resonated with the sounds of the mbira, the guitar, and the rhythms
• walking down to the pond - and then swimming, diving (diving!!!!) and floating around to my heart's content. and lounging about on the floating docks when a respite was needed...
• learning (the hard way) that I don't know how to row a rowboat. But thankfully being saved by D's mad awesome rowing skills, and making it all the way to Blueberry Island (and back!)
• singing French songs to little M. in the rowboat
• snorting at H's deadpan jokes
• laughing with S and G and friends over wine, beer, and chips in the buggy but snug porch of Weller House
• creating art under the able guidance of Stephanie - who taught us a bit of printmaking - working with linoleum and rubber and inks!

All in all I feel like a hobbit who's returned from a glorious stay at Rivendell.