Time at Home

The last week to ready ourselves for the trip is here. We sat out on the porch in the hot sunshine this weekend, braving the heavy pollen falling silently like yellow dust. Looking skyward, the big jets flew through the Carolina blue above, heading to unknown destinations.
Going home...............I love those words. I've crossed the pond so many times I've lost count. Sometimes the trip was for sad reasons. Illness and death of loved ones, hard at any time or distance, becomes a dark journey when the night is black and endless. Fortunately most trips are happy. The anticipation of the pleasant days ahead fills your heart as you set your watch to a new time. Dawn brings views of the ocean still churning far below. The sky at that height presents an awesome sunrise, colors are intense for a short time and one feels the promise of a wonderful day. On descent, the watery light of morning rips through the soggy gray, and far below, the coastline appears, the patchwork fields unfolding on the edges of the cliffs, the familiar English hedgerows, the pale glow of street lights come up to meet you.
You are home.