September 18, 2019, on the shore of Lake Bohinj, Slovenia
It was a foggy, mystical misty morning along the shores of Lake Bohinj. Not nearly as famous as its nearby cousin, Lake Bled, Bohinj is – in my humble estimation – far more beautiful, nested in lush valleys of the Julian Alps and butting up to the charming alpine village of Stara Fuzina.
I’d left our rental house in the village that morning in a huff, irritated at most things, everything. Our family had been on the road for six weeks or so, the beginning of a sabbatical of sorts, a break from home, the norm, an intentional shaking up of things.
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