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Wanderer Of The World: The Poconos

No sooner did we unpack our sandals from our suitcases after our Miami trip we found ourselves turning around and packing up our snow boots to head for the Poconos. Literally. We were home for just one day.

As we sat in Holland Tunnel rush-hour traffic, I felt a bit antsy and muddled about leaving the city again less than 24 hours after arriving home from the warm-blooded shores of South Beach. Nonetheless, we loaded up the car and left at dark. As we wormed our way through the hilly roads, it all became worth it. The sky was epic. Apocalyptic almost. The moon was oversized and appeared heavy, as if it were slowly sinking into Earth. And as the bright lights of the big city turned into muted blacks and greys crossing into Pennsylvania, I saw a shooting star flutter across the sky like a glowing ballerina. 

I smiled. A Broadway show in the sky, light years away from Manhattan.

When we finally arrived, it was like we had found our own slice of enchanted forest. The lake in the center of the community was glazed over with ice and snow, of which the moon brewed a hypnotizing white glow. It was quiet and calm, like the recipe for peace was culminating in the nooks of the woods.

Our darling friends played host to us over President's Day weekend and while I used to think that the mountain community was a swath of outdated rentals and the area's golden hey days had been usurped by more posh locales, I was entirely wrong.

The house bellied right up to Lake Harmony and was a jumbo-sized piece of real estate compared to my modest apartment back in the city. Hello, basement with a pool table! Confession: I felt like I was playing house all weekend! 

Every night we parked ourselves in front of the fireplace, had a nightcap {what our sweet European friends call having a drink before tucking ourselves in! P.S. My new favorite word} and chatted with our friends until the wee hours of the morning. 

During the day we contemplated ice fishing and kicking off an impromptu ice hockey game off of this...

Normally, this is a rippling lake, filled with lots of little boats puttering around, but it's ebb and flow had long been frozen in time with all of the sub-zero temperatures. It was horizontally snowing our first day there! Eeeps! But it was super neat! Look, CJ was walking on water!

For most of our trip the wind howled around us like we were trapped in a mystery novel, but our final day it calmed down enough that we took CJ to the Jack Frost/Big Boulder Ski Resort where he conquered his first half pipe! 

OK, so not really. He just went snow tubing, but he plummeted down the mountain without a single morsel of fear. I, on the other hand, well...clearly he doesn't get his badge of bravery from me!

Sometimes in the middle of nothing is where you actually find something. I found there is pure comfort in simplicity. In moments where the couch swallows you up for an afternoon nap in front of the fire. I found there is nothing more irreplaceable than amazing friends. Friends that share their generations old Irish family recipes. I found there is pleasure in moments where you want to do nothing. And can.

It's funny how it takes life to slow for our souls to quicken.

I'm curious, what are some of your favorite winter wonderlands? 

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