That's a strange picture. I looked outside this evening and the setting sun was lighting up the railroad track in a way I'd never seen before. Now believe me- this may happen every evening or it may not. The trees are dropping leaves and the sun is shifting in its quadrant of our sky and this event may be like the solstice at Chichen Itza for all I know but there it was. And it's not a good picture. But I took it.

I live in a tiny village. There is one flashing light on the corner and if there are two other lights in all of Jefferson County I am surprised, even though it is a large county, stretching from Georgia to the coast. I had a blog-visitor yesterday. A real live one. Angie of A Whole Lot of Nothing stopped by with her family on their way back from Seaside to Orlando. While they were here, they asked me how big Lloyd is. I stretched out my arms and said, "This is it."
They laughed because this ain't much.
It was funny- her family was exactly as I had pictured them, although her two daughters were far more beautiful than I could have imagined. They had the most incredible eyes and I was so happy to show them how to throw the corn to feed the chickens, to pick them up so they could toss some potato vine into the pen next door for the goats to eat.
And here we were- people who had met only online meeting in real life. I wonder what they thought of me and my home. Did they think that it was smaller in real life than it is on the blog? Did they think I was older in real life than I look like on the blog? I have no idea.
But it was a very interesting experience and they were such nice people.

This morning I went to the post office after yoga to find a package from Barnes and Noble. A book, The Gargoyle, by Andrew Davidson, had been sent to me by someone who reads my blog. Mary, I think, who has no blog site. I've lost the e-mail she sent me, asking for my address but I think that's her. She sent me a book- a real book I can hold in my hands and I can't wait to read it to see why she thinks it is something I would love.
I have been sent other books by people who know me through this blog. And Adrienne sent me three beautiful diaper covers for Owen which she made herself.

And every time this happens- that I get sent something which someone who only knows me through this space on the internet or whom I meet because of it- I am blown away.

Look. I write a blog because I have to communicate but doing that with real, live people is hard for me. And so when someone makes the effort to do something or make a visit which results in real actual molecules of real actual things or hugs, I can just hardly believe it and I am grateful.

The light was shining on the railroad tracks tonight. They were lit up golden as if to say that I could follow them anywhere. The road in front of my house often gives me the same message. And although I am happiest right here, or perhaps down the road a few miles where I can inhale the scent of my grandson's head, can stretch my arms around one of my children, can get to yoga or the Opera House, I need to remember that there are other places.
And I also need to remember that the roads and the tracks can lead this way, too. That people can touch me who have never met me in very real ways.

And I am grateful for that. This blog has turned out to be something that expands my world, even as I sit on this porch.

Thank all of you who comment daily. I feel as if we are family in some way. I thank my children for commenting because they make me feel as if this is not just a dream I am living, but a reality.
I don't think I know how to draw the line between reality and cyber-reality any more. I have been given too much of the real kind of reality to be able to mark that distinction.

And every time it happens, every word I get as comment, every person I meet, every package that comes in the mail reminds me of that.

I live in Lloyd but I could get anywhere in the world from here and the world can come to me, as well.

Think about that. I am.

And it astounds me.