I’m typing this on my iPad while sitting on the Atlanta airport runway, waiting to taxi. Around me, passengers are shifting down the aisle, adjusting bags and hunting for space in the overhead bins. Flight attendants will soon secure those compartments, a few more chimes and announcements will sound, and we’ll roll down the runway and get this plane airborne.
It has been an eventful ten days away, and now we are finally beginning the trip home.
My husband has spent the past 14 months taking a leadership course, and this final residential session was held in Georgia. Spouses were invited to attend part of the program and the graduation celebration, so we planned our visit around that special weekend. Because we used points for our flights, the airline’s available dates left us a few extra days to explore the state before heading back.
We packed a lot into the week and a half of travel. We moved by planes, trains, and automobiles, enjoying the different rhythms each mode of transportation offered. There were quiet, reflective moments and bustling stretches—both part of what made the trip so memorable.
One highlight was attending gatherings and sessions at a beautiful retreat center that, wonderfully, used to be a dairy farm. The setting felt inspiring: open spaces, simple architecture, and a calm that encouraged learning and reflection. We visited, listened, celebrated, and left feeling renewed by the peaceful atmosphere and thoughtful programming.
We sampled Southern home cooking along the way—shrimp and grits, buttermilk biscuits with gravy, catfish, and fried okra. We even had a meal at Paula Deen’s restaurant. While each dish had its own charm, the standout for me was a slice of Georgia pecan pie—rich, buttery, and unmistakably comforting.
We wandered the lovely streets of Savannah, taking in the architecture, hand-carved corbels, and the textured old brick and cobblestone lanes. The city’s historic squares and quiet corners felt like places that invite slow exploration. We paused often—watching people, enjoying the shade, and soaking up the layered history visible in the materials and details of the buildings.
Another favorite moment: sitting on the famous Forrest Gump bench with a coffee in hand, listening to the clip-clop of horses on the street. Those small, sensory experiences—coffee steam, conversation, the sound of hooves—became the day’s gentle soundtrack.
We didn’t over-plan every hour of the trip; instead we followed what felt right in the moment. That flexibility led to a serendipitous discovery: when we realized we were near a place I’d long wanted to visit thanks to an inspiring blog, we took a short drive to Tybee Island. Though the day was a bit windy and cool, the beach was a definite highlight—wide sands, brisk sea air, and the simple pleasure of being beside the ocean.
As we make our way back, I feel grateful for the opportunity to visit places I had never seen before. There is a comforting anticipation of returning home—of hugging my boys, unpacking yet another box, and settling back into familiar routines. At the same time, I carry with me the calm, the new tastes, the scenic walks, and the conversations that filled this trip.
It has been a whirlwind month in many ways—full of travel, celebration, and discovery. Heading home feels both like an ending and a gentle beginning as we unpack memories and settle back into daily life.
(*Update: We’re home! Between laundry, cleaning, and unpacking boxes I will be writing about our recent adventures in more detail—so stay tuned.)