It’s been seven months since I packed the car and drove to Texas, and now I’m back in Virginia for Spring Break.

Some things have not changed: my parents’ cabin still sits on Mason’s Knob surrounded by woods, woodpeckers tap the trees in bursts of staccato, the neon star lights up every night from the top of Mill Mountain. Other things are different: my parents’ vegetable garden has grown, a new community library has been built, and two of my friends have new babies. The sameness is reassuring, and the newness refreshing.

Just as home has both changed and stayed the same, so have I.

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