The road to get here was long. It was long, and it wound and wound, and wound. It was one of those small roads- the kind that you can barely see on the map. We skirted the mountains and passed farms where the sun shined down on dilapidated barns, and cows, and on horses manes so that they gleamed. We passed through towns that time didn’t forget, but the people did. We took that road all the way to where we are now.