Two weeks goes by very quickly I learned. My time visiting The Author in the beautiful Mid-Hudson Valley of New York had come to an end – something everything does, at some point in time. It was time to come home with mixed feelings. We had more to do, the two of us, time together was wonderful – yet home is my place, and I miss it when I’m gone. So she drove me to the airport, where we hugged and said – I don’t know, but it must have been something like “until we meet again”. I’m certain it was poetic. Of course it was.
From the windows upstairs in the waiting room – Stewart Airport is very small, having once been an Air Force base and not that far away from the big City of New York with it’s grand big airports – I could see some of the buildings from the time it was that military installation. Those big building up on the hill that look like they’re wrapped in black tarpaper? I worked in one of those, at a time when this base bustled, when it was the NORAD headquarters for that part of the country. Ahhhhhh, memories from back in the day.
Boarding call, time to embark on a short leg of the flight back to Philadelphia, which was followed by another fairly short leg to Charlotte, NC, followed by a longer leg to Phoenix, AZ – I told you the powers that be in charge of itineraries changed mine after I booked, deciding obviously that I needed a tour of the country – which was followed by the final leg of the flight, getting me to Portland, OR in the dark hours of the night. But between Charlotte and Phoenix, we had an hours-long sunset, which we followed west. It started out soft and gentle
turned into a blaze of glory, lighting up the clouds
and ended with a final show which I’m sure featured fireworks, not able to be seen by the human eye.
It is not often that one gets to enjoy a sunset that lasts for hours – so many moments of spectacular beauty are short-lived. As perhaps they should be. It might be that our hearts and souls could not stand too much beauty, too much excitement. If there was a saving grace to that itinerary, it was that sunset.
The next day in Portland it rained. And rained. And rained. The walk to the MAX station from my hotel seemed longer than I cared to make in the rain, so a taxi was summoned. They’ve changed – taxis. It’s been a long time since I was in one, but now they have meters that the passenger in the back can see, can swipe their credit card for payment. That seems a very good idea to me, so the drivers do not have to carry large amounts of cash. It’s also very convenient for the passenger, I think. My taxi got me safely to Union Station, dry and secure. Again, a boarding call, the last leg on my trip home.
Home I arrived. Home I am, and have been for over a month. A month that has flown by, as time seems to do these days. It’s good. It’s all good. It is – enough.