For the last two days, it’s been planes, trains and automobiles with bouts of open and clean space between them, a great anniversary party with friends and family, but mostly that sense of speeding through space. Thanks to New Jersey Transit and Continental Airlines, speed has been all around, from sitting in the ambling nicely train while a super sonic whoosh of an Amtrak jolts me with its passing, to sitting in the rounded end of terminal A at Newark International Airport, waiting to board a second plane after our first one was deemed unfit.
Now I’m home, the cat asleep on my lap (a compromise to keep her from sleeping across the computer keys, all an obvious ploy to say: love me instead), the dog asleep by the feet, the dirty laundry dumped out of the suitcase, the pile of newspapers ready to read and weep over, and all the assorted things to get fixed (like our furnace, which won’t turn on, and the wheel alignment after skidding some to avoid a deer on the way to the airport). The room is quiet, the leaves completely stripped from the Cottonwood, the wind slightly up, and the rose in the vase pretty much spent.
I like landing, especially after what it always takes to get from one dimension to another, from the land of my childhood to the land of the rest of my life. Now it time to walk back into this life more fully as soon as I go find some coffee to replenish the coffers.