I’ve been suffering a mild case of Gita Nagari Life nostalgia. Longing for the soft grass, rolling hills. Morning smells of dew and earth. Afternoon sun. Rising dawn. Low over the mountain and through the maple and beech trees. Light. Shadows. Barns. Buggies. Everything fresh and lovely. Barefoot everywhere. I always said our house our land our life there would make a great vacation spot. And I meant it.