Glad to be home

After a long day's travel, I find myself at last at Seattle's Colman Dock, waiting in line for the ferry home. It's almost midnight, New Jersey time, but here it's barely 8:30: the sun is just beginning to set; the gulls are circling, hoping for scraps tossed by tourists as the ferry pulls in; the weather is pleasantly warm and dry -- a far cry from the blistering heat and humidity I've left behind. Though the house has been closed up in our absence, I know I'll be sleeping under a blanket tonight after a week of tossing even the sheets aside in hopes of a breath of cool air.

Even the smallest journeys have a purpose, a beginning, and an end; each journey a microcosm of the larger journey that is life. And as we travel, we can't help but notice the other journeys taking place around us, other sources, other destinations, other styles of travel, other choices... And now today, waking to a still lagoon, gray skies and blessedly cool weather, I know some of my time will be spent catching up and much of it will be spent reflecting, as the sea reflects the sky, on my most recent travels: remembering the heat, the joy of a family wedding, the challenges and rewards of sorting through another life's accumulation of memories and "stuff," the pleasures of spending time and sharing tasks with family we rarely see... It's all good. And I'm glad to be home.