Waking up in the darkness to catch our flight; where is the beautiful light that welcomes me to morning? Who are these people wearing tank tops in the check-in line? I don't meet anyone like this on the 32 bus.
Not below the drizzling clouds at the bottom of the air ocean, but in the mid-space with clouds below and above. Landing not at a hectic urban airport but uncrowded leisurely Gerald Ford International in the midst of fields.
Full range response to daughter and son-in-law in the flesh; not just a screen in my room at home.
The city of Holland in the midst of its annual tulip festival; masses of different colors, monochrome, striped. Where are the tall buildings I should among now; where is the Boston assertiveness?
Grandson not observed remotely but interacted with: able to be held, hugged, read to, chased, picked up, tiipped upside down, tickled, made to laugh, sung to: 'The wheels on the bus go round & round', put to bed, kissed.
Lght leaving later because we're at the western edge of the time zone. People strolling in the park in the sunset, a kind of La Grand Jatte. Small children in Dutch costumes and wooden shoes cajoled into poses.
Passionate conversation at dinner; not "how was your day?" but politics, theology...
What's making this annoying noise beside my bed ; how do I turn off this persistent alarm?
Where the cool mental compartmentalization I use me to prepare this blog: broken open and scattered. Where are my many rooms to roam in, rather than this compressed hotel room.
Routine, meet these new circumstance. Normal Peter, meet who you will be here.
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