End Times

Day 14.  All’s well that ends well, just a shame there shall be no Europa final.  Alas.  Taken all in all, hard to complain about the past weeks, the slow assimilation, the solving of the puzzle, the emergence into the sunshine and the sight of the Southern Cross under sail, once more.

Strange days, perceptions, observances, little things that bring a smile.  “Pop, what is that?”  The pictures at SDA on the Sabbath, as we are mistaken for cousin Lisa.  The husband bring Canada cold at Woodside.  The donation centre and fresh lobster.  The departure code word yellow. The apocryphal chalk call to pick up the Bible... I like that, she says.

At the meditation rock today, a sensation of peace.  The desire to get back to the writing, not yet but soon, summer 2022 the perfect (re)entry point.  There will be occasion for it.  An open letter-style to the one to come as a theme?  Not out of the question.  A diary, incorporating past and present, memories not to be lost and lessons not to be forgotten. Some way to incorporate the magic of the past year into universal themes, with metaphors and turns of phrase and (above all?) wonder.  

Enough for now.  Sleep calls, the start of the work week and further explorations ahead.  Inches met, DM and JS next for a light lunch post-Point Pleasant.  Revisit this though.  One year from the return to NS last year after two months at home.  So much goodness accomplished since, my wife beside me and a new car below.  I scarce believe it.