Emerging from the cave

I'm back in North Carolina now after days on the road. The way the landscapes and temperature changed delighted me with each successive state I drove through, the fall foliage lessening to green as if I were rewinding time. No I-95 for me: I took the route through the mountains, down through the Shenandoah Valley on I-81.

My favorite part of the trip was unplanned. In Grottoes, VA, I randomly pulled off the highway to see the Grand Caverns. The mountains turning purple in the fading light, I barely made it to the last guided tour of the day.
The belly of the mountain was beautiful, and a cool 54F year-round. Quiet, just a handful of other visitors at the late hour, the marvel of the dripping stalactites, living rock. Even saw a couple of (early) hibernating bats clinging to the upper reaches of the cave when we were 200 feet below ground. Only the next day did it hit me: bats symbolize rebirth. And if that's not what I'm doing by returning to NC at the end of a long journey, I don't know what it is.

Leaving the cave as the sun set, we visitors made polite walking-to-the-car introductions. The others were inspired by my summary - quit my job to write a book and travel - and told me how brave I was. Oh, how I needed to hear that! It made me glow to remember. Me. Brave. Yes.

Gotta say it feels weird here in NC. Past, present, and future simultaneously: all my possible selves merging into one. Full circle.

Here I sit now, in a borrowed empty bedroom with no furniture, staring at the ceiling and thinking about it all.