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morning dew. She loved this
time of day, just prior to 8 AM classes, gazing across the quad at the earliest
risers whose coffee infused arteries were just beginning to circulate enough
energy to stir their weary souls from slumber. It was September, too early for
her to witness a cool mist rising from the warm ground, but Sarah imagined what
the scene would look like in two more months when fall began to creep into
central Maryland.
    She suddenly felt a pang
of homesickness for Colorado and the constant backdrop of The Rockies
sheltering her from the rest of the flat earth. Those mountains had seemed like
stalwart fortresses when she was younger, but now she saw them as obstacles she
had conquered. They had never held her back from pursuing her dreams. Having
climbed both literal and figurative mountains, now she felt like she could
return, unencumbered, and embrace their protection. They were gates now, not
fences.  
    She sighed thinking of
how it had been nearly two years now since her eyes stared up, awestruck at
their snowy peaks, since she watched the purple mist gather in their valleys,
since she hiked up a rocky canyon, since she picnicked on the edge of a cliff. She
never thought she’d be away from the mountains so long. My soul is aching
for home , she finally admitted to herself. She pondered whether or not a trip was in order...maybe
over the holidays.  Is Owen old enough to ski? she considered
thoughtfully as she made her way up the steps to her building.  
    Am I being ungrateful? she wondered.   After all, my home is
now here, in Maryland, with my beautiful children and devoted mother . She
learned to appreciate things about this place, perks she’d never even realized
were part of the package: proximity to the beach and major cities such as
Washington DC, Philadelphia and even New York City. Everything was close by on
the East coast. The weather was milder than in the mountains. She also had
learned to love crab cakes, apparently a prerequisite for living here.  
    She considered the painful
memories she left in Colorado and even in New Mexico where she’d spent her
first post-doc year. There were things she left unprocessed, that she packed
away, all boxed up where she couldn’t access the memories. She had come
here to the East coast for a fresh start.  And that’s what I’ve gotten,
right? she asked herself. Still, she wanted to be able to look up at those
mountains and not feel a pang of regret or a sigh of discontent. Those rocks
are my roots, my genesis . She didn’t want to have her Motherland tainted by
the bad memories she associated with her last few years
there.   
    And then another proverb
echoed in her mind: you can never go home.
    Sarah’s mental
meandering was interrupted by a knock at the door. She saw the sweet young
face of Emma Knightley, one of her favorite students and her most trustworthy
research assistant, appear. “Hey, Dr. Lynde,” she said brightly, “Can I
talk to you a second?”
    “Of course, Emma,
please, come in!”  Sarah greeted her warmly.
    “It’s about my senior
seminar research project,” Emma began, helping herself to a seat and tossing
her bag on the floor next to Sarah’s desk. Sarah wasn’t used to students being
so relaxed in her office, but Emma had spent a lot of time in that chair and
really considered Sarah to be her mentor. Sarah couldn’t help but remember her
undergrad days hanging out and hanging on every word of her mentor Dr. Sharp. It
seemed fitting that she could now pay it forward with her own little protégé.
 
    “Did you settle on a
topic?” Sarah questioned.
    “Well, actually yes. At
least I think so,” Emma smiled. “I wanted to write something about the
recent explosion of bisexuality. It’s all the rage now, girls in clubs showing
off, walking around campus holding hands, making out in front of drooling guys. Like,
what is the deal with that?”
    “Interesting
observation,” Sarah remarked, although she