Three weeks passed like geese overhead, now echoing quietly over the bay as they fade out of sight. Tomorrow I too fly, though eastward and north, not south, and to neither warmer climes nor a warmer spirit. Visits are rejuvenating and more, but are visits, all the same, all the more difficult the more they feel like home.
In April, as water clears the soil and the earliest blooms begin to glisten, I’ll throw off my winter coat and parade my own new blossoms, new papers and new skills; a new life, completely underway and yet just now beginning.