andamu

I am away for three days at a conference, all hush-hush, industry secrets and all that. Luckily it is within driving distance of my town, so I brought my precious one along - the room is free for him but the meal prices constrict my throat.
::
For me, the planning and anticipation frequently are almost more enjoyable than the actual experience. I daydream about the destination of an upcoming trip, about little details, the look and the feel of the place, often informed by books, from fiction through fact and specifically travel guides.
The end result is usually somewhat akin to seeing a screen adaptation of a favorite book: the people look (and act) completely different from one's mental image, the places and buildings seem somehow wrong and the interactions and dynamics have a totally different character.
Just so, actual destinations frequently seem, at most, pale shadows of their imaginged selves.
But stepping out of the car in front of the Lodge at around 9.30 a.m. felt like stepping inta an image of the stereotypical mountain lodge in autumn. The air was crisp, the sky a clear blue, the angle of the sun still sharp, causing dappled shadows on the bright sunny slopes colored in pine green and bright golden flecks, with tufts of woodsmoke spiraling lazily from the chimneys.