We spent five days last week in a yurt, in the middle of a hundred acre family farm, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. It was perfect. The mornings were filled with rooster songs, wet air, and a sun rise that stunned. At night, the fireflies lit up the mountains; it strained the eye to detect where the fireflies ended and the real stars began. The woman who owns the farm, Anna, and her partner Marco, were wonderful and welcoming. Anna’s father, Jim, also has a home adjacent to her property; he was beautiful and gentle. Mr. Jim was soft spoken, and I wanted to hear all the stories he wasn’t telling, because I knew they would be good and true. They gave us a run of the place, and a lot of privacy, too. It was awesome to see Foos have so much fun being completely herself, in a different environment. Seeing her interact with the farm dogs, Lucy and Beagler, her little eyes widen in both curiosity and fear at the sound of the coyote’s melancholy howl, and her delight at the fireflies, made me so grateful Seth gave her this experience. I can hardly wait to return.