Our drive from Maryland to North Carolina was pleasantly uneventful until we were 20 miles from home. Traffic came to a halt in the gorge, and we sat there for one and a half hours. There was a long stretch with no exits, leaving us no alternative. The attraction of the moment was the rising of the moon. When we finally moved, we passed an 18-wheeler on a tow truck headed in the wrong direction. It was a strange sight. The four-lane interstate was squeezed by mountains on both sides with a concrete Jersey barrier down the middle. Perhaps the road was closed again later to allow that rig to escape.

Needless to say, we dragged ourselves into the house, carrying as much as possible. Nathaniel clapped his hats on my head for an easy ride in.

After the car was unpacked, Nathaniel performed his mirror ritual. His summer has officially begun.  [Every time he comes to stay, he moves the mirror to the hanger where the former owners hung a clock.  He is the only one who can use it easily, although David can see himself on tiptoe.]

A couple of days later, a cloud invited itself to dinner on our porch. It shied away at the last moment.