When the Stars Go Out

Swishy pants, x-box t-shirt, high school tennis sweatshirt. There's something very comfortable about donning my traditional beach attire for another September evening. Tonight I'm the lone silhouette under the canopy at the split stair park as random flashes of lighting accent the sky. It's peaceful, and right now it's the only thing that feels close to home.

It's amazing how far one can go in a day. By the time I finish collecting these thoughts it will be twenty-four hours since I soaked in my parents' Jacuzzi looking up at the stars. They appear no different than they do tonight, no different than the many times I did the same thing in New York, yet everything has changed. "Everything" there is, by definition, much greater than little me. Somewhere in the cosmos handfuls of those very same stars may have expired long before my world was ever dreamed of. I could lift my barely hopeful eyes skyward my entire life and never know the flicker of a memory was all I had been relying on to sustain me.

I wonder what it's like to be gazing at the sky and watch as one of those glittering specks suddenly disappears. To witness the death of a piece of creation that has awed me forever might be more than I could take. I think part of me would feel like it vanished with it. I am far more dependent on flickers of memories than I sometimes wish to be.

This weekend I thought often of our evacuation for Hurricane Frances. At that time I felt like my entire world was in flux. I was scared, confused, and I had no idea what lay in the scrub waiting to pounce when I returned to the sunshine state. Three years later I find it exactly the same. I drove home feeling as I did then, mentally drifting many of the same directions and wondering where this uncertain life of mine is taking me. I feel like I've failed. I still don't know how to recover from the mistakes.

On the positive side this return wasn't to an apartment complex smattered with debris, just a few new coats of paint. My door is black now. I don't think I like it.

Why is it that what I wish to remain the same never does, yet what I wish to change rarely alters? It's here that I begin to hate my insignificance, my powerlessness and the invalidity of my wishes. When the world is good it's wonderful, when it's bad it seems as if it always has been and I'm left asking the oft-repeated question of when I get to win.

It makes me feel ungrateful. I recognize regularly how much I have been given, yet I would trade just about all of it for what I continue to live without. Nothing fills in that hole. Sometimes I feel its edges flutter as if the piece has slipped back in. For those brief moments the contented sigh of my soul stretches warmth from my heart to my toes and fingertips. It's indescribable until, like the stars, it disappears and part of me vanishes with it.

In the pain of reliving that loss is when I need to remember I have more than flashes of memories to sustain me. That I need to look forward with hope, not wallow in what binds me to years that have blown past. Sometimes I wonder which is more difficult, clinging or letting go.

But if the next three years go as quickly as this last trio has I can still see myself in this place. I'll be nearly 30 and probably wearing the same bummy clothes as I click away on a different laptop. (The fact that my toys change faster than my wardrobe probably says much about me.) Between paragraphs I will still be casting glances toward the ghosts against the railing and wondering where my time has gone and why I'm still stuck in what I should have been able to shake.

I am such a stupid girl sometimes, but it is what hides behind those six letters that causes me to love her. I just wish I knew how to do that best. If I can't, how can I expect anybody else to?

Captured At:2111

If You Wanna be Happy for the Rest of Your Life....

The Internet is host to a raft of web pages proclaiming they have the keys, secrets, tips or whatever to a happier life. I will admit that when I see these bold advertisements I generally click the link to skim whatever bulleted list the author has created, however, unlike the typical visitor, I am not looking for some great revelation tucked within the contents. Fancy wording aside, the items are generally the same between one source and the next. I have no doubt the intentions behind such compositions are good, but they are utterly useless. I learned long ago that true happiness is something neither easily taught nor easily attained.

On balance I believe myself to be a happy person. Does that always come through? No, probably not. But it doesn't have to.

I am a firm believer in the power of the little things; a glance, a touch, a smile, a random happy thought. On the worst and roughest days I have it is always something simple like that which turns everything around. This week had a rather shaky beginning, but it reinforced several things I need and want to remember.

First, nature is amazing. Tuesday morning there was half a rainbow arched over my building as I walked toward the door. Anxious as I was I paused and smiled before continuing inside. Something in its existence calmed me down, which at that moment I truly needed. Yesterday morning it was grey and sprinkling as I trekked across the parking lot. The droplets on my arms felt amazing and I froze right there looking between the building I was reluctant to enter, the outside areas for a bench to lay on, and the sky. Out of nowhere I heard a voice. "It's called rain," the stranger laughed as he walked by. Again I smiled. On my return to the cape to retrieve my iPod after class last night I also observed the quality of the light on the clouds and trees. There is a brief moment during every sunrise and sunset where the world radiates the most remarkable muted hues. It takes my breath away every time. No sooner do I recognize it than it vanishes completely, but those few seconds are heaven. So much beauty in the world....

Trying to live at peace with everyone is a difficult yet worthy endeavour. I did quite a bit of grumbling about my astro class and its outcome, but I also made the effort today to understand why the world turned out as it did. I was even able to laugh when the answer to, "Am I the only person who got this wrong" came back as, "Others had trouble with it, but you butchered it worse than anybody else." I no longer have to fear walking into another course with this guy and he says he's looking forward to having me in class again. That's a good feeling.

Frustrated and misunderstood as I often feel because my mind works differently than pretty much everybody, I am in good company. I have been formally welcomed to the club. Tough as it is sometimes, I wouldn't trade being there for anything. I was also told today that I have a philosophical, deep poetic soul (tremendous power in that description), which isn't common among the science and engineering disciplines I have become immersed in. Apparently I will continue to run into miscommunication problems because of this, but they need people like me.

Next, a double lesson: There's no time like the present and celebrate your successes. Somehow I dragged my unmotivated tail out to the park and ran longer and farther than I have yet. I also indulged myself in a "someday I will" that appeared after the last series of laps. Jumping into the pool fully clothed - shoes and all - felt even more fantastic than I had imagined. I felt so free floating there with my head tipped back to gaze at the purple clouds and the stars. The walk to my apartment was a bit chilly, but I laughed with every step as the squilshing noise from my soggy sneakers echoed across the parking lot. When I finally found a mirror I discovered a giant grin of pure joy was stretched across my face. I have never had an encounter with the pool like that. Something tells me there are more in my future.

Lastly, I am loved. This is rarely vocalized, yet I have come to identify the different ways in which the people around me express what I know to be true. I'm not always sure why they do and I certainly don't believe I deserve it, but I remain grateful. Whether it means anything coming from me or not, I hope somehow they know that they, too, are loved.

True the random reassignment to the JSC guy was a bit distressing, but the knowledge they're bringing me home coupled with all of this makes it impossible to write off the week as anything other than good.

And that's the real secret to living a happy life: perspective. Find the right one, learn to keep it, and you're gold.

Captured At:2215

Failure of Moderation

When I think back to the desert trip two years ago what stands out most is my dependency on Krispy Kreme doughnuts that day. I had not slept the night before we flew out and the sugar was my only hope of not collapsing into a ball somewhere in the orange dirt of Arizona.

We've had contractors in town most of this week for integrated system testing. The team arrived yesterday to find that three boxes of Krispy Kreme's had been brought in for them by our lead. I daresay I ate at least half of an average person's daily caloric intake purely in glazed doughnuts. My stomach was in sugar shock, yet I would always cave one more time. I uttered the phrase "I'm wired" at a frequency approaching that of "I'm wasted" revelations during a college party. In some ways it even felt similar.

So if yesterday was the sugar high, today must be the hangover. The world feels frozen in place. Or perhaps that's just me. I continually have to snap myself "awake" after minutes of sitting motionless where even daydreams cannot find me. All attempts to determine a course of action for the remainder of the day have left my head feeling vacant, save for scattered verses from James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" that have appeared completely at random.

I feel...nothing. Even thought is a stretch. These words have taken me an hour because I have paused without reason so often in their composition. It is the most bizarre form of crash I have ever experienced.

Next week when we again take to the skies for Arizona it is guaranteed there will be Krispy Kreme's in abundance for sustenance throughout the day. I think I'll bring my own snacks. No point in being useless two visits in a row...

Captured At:1051

Bridging the Gap

For days I have struggled with what to say about Arizona. As I engage in an evening ritual of tea and typing on the porch I find the direction my words will take no more defined than when our jet touched down Thursday evening. The only thing I seem to be certain of right now is that travel continues to stretch me. When I am away somehow my feet always fall onto roads that would have been impassible or inaccessible at home. I still don't understand how or why this works.

We left at 7am. Somehow my "legendary lateness" makes me last to arrive even when I'm early, but I was greeted with a smiling face and none of the condemnation I have come to expect under similar circumstances. "I love getting to see the sunrise," I said sharing my prevalent thought during the drive in while we walked toward the plane. "It makes the day feel so promising." After the post-takeoff excitement died down everybody settled into whatever activity would occupy them for the remainder of the flight. For me it began as writing.

The world from 38,000 ft. up is no less awe-inspiring than the first time I took to the air. It looks so calm outside that window. Often I wish it were possible to escape the confines of the cabin, walk upon the air and climb to the top of the clouds. They always seem so light and free; a life I aspire to.

References to Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot seem to be in abundance since I opened its covers last semester, particularly the part where the insignificance of this speck we call home is explained... Yes, in the grand scheme we are small and of little consequence. On the reverse, this is the only place we can call home. It's the only backdrop for the story of our lives. For better or worse we're here. Breathing, thinking, feeling, discovering. We exist. And that makes our inconsequential little dot very significant indeed.

As the text I was composing grew heavier I disengaged. Words slowly turned to sketches of mountains. Then, for no reason I could place, I decided I needed a tree swing. "Childhood memory?" The voice of the person to my left had caught me a bit off guard. "Oh. Um. No, it's not. It just sort of showed up." "I used to have one," he said.

Somewhere inside I was shaking my head in disbelief. What on Earth were the chances of that? Nothing, and I mean nothing is an accident.

For me the high point of a day in the desert was when my half-joking question of "So when do I get to drive the moon car" received a positive answer. One of the guys told me later that the smile plastered across my face as I drove laps in the cinder bed was the biggest he had ever seen. I have decided the best part about the numerous pictures captured during those moments is that I'm not the only one grinning like an idiot. Everybody else on the vehicle is genuinely smiling too. I won't assume that's my doing, but excitement is contagious and I've been told I'm pretty good at spreading the infection. Such a disgusting description for such a beautiful thing...

Then something changed. I don't think it was one thought or incident that triggered it, but rather several small ones in quick succession. Suddenly I was thinking too much, trapped in a loop I couldn't break out of, and the one thing I wanted I felt I couldn't do. Once in the quiet of my hotel room I took several deep breaths and a long shower in an attempt to regain control. I got myself ready for an evening out I wanted no part of. "You look like hell, Bec. Just give it up."

I took a long look into that mirror standing inches away from a face I didn't entirely recognize. I talked to her as I would have talked to anybody else who needed some encouragement at that moment; told her everything I both believed and knew she needed to hear. I watched her pupils breathe in the dim light and her lips move as they molded the sound of a voice calmer than I felt I had within me. When I finished the reflection took a deep breath, smiled slightly and disappeared. The show must go on.

And on it went, though the role was less convincing as the night continued. Everything around me only added to the pile I had wearily climbed over to get myself out the door. I was beating myself down, attacking every fear and insecurity, reliving every loss, taunting every unmet need, and staring at the ever-widening gap between me and everybody else on this clueless planet. I grew frustrated and angry as I watched it happen and was powerless to stop it. I tried hard not to let the anger win. I was mostly successful though some trickled out.

Back in the safety of the hotel room I collapsed onto the bed in tears. "Why is this where it always ends? It doesn't matter what I do, doesn't matter how hard I try to change it. I'm not strong enough for this. I can't do it." All I really wanted to do was run away but, as usual, I didn't know where to go.

That's when I picked up the phone. I'm not sure I was as interested in the answer to my question about the safety of the neighbourhood as I was in hearing another voice for a few seconds. Walking up the stairs was difficult. Knocking on the door was harder. It's in that variety of moment that I can see my mother's handwriting in purple ink gently reminding me "No man is an island, island girl."

Time remains one of the most precious gifts there is. I tried hard to remember that I wasn't taking anything that hadn't been freely offered and given. I tried both to talk and to listen with mixed success. I collected a few more pieces. I struggled once again at how who I feel like on the inside bears no resemblance to who people see on the outside. I think that's where many of my problems come from; nobody pays the other half the attention she needs.

But what continues to strike me the hardest is how one of the most important people in my life right now didn't think I considered them a friend because of something I don't even remember happening. I cannot believe how miserably I failed with that one. I thought it was obvious to everybody, yet somehow they were never sure. Maybe after those hours there can be a little more confidence on both of our parts.

Nothing is fixed, but the world inside my head has been a lot calmer since that night. I rarely get the sort of time we shared and I think it was exactly what I needed. That, and the really big hug before I left to go back to my room. It's the first time this particular pair of arms didn't seem hesitant or nervous to come in contact with me. I'm not sure if this was because they knew how badly I needed it, because they finally realized they're allowed inside the bubble, or because of something else entirely. The reason doesn't matter; it still goes on the list of embraces I didn't want to leave.

Suddenly I recognize how lucky I am to have a list like that. One way or another we all need to be loved. Even islands like me.

Captured At:2332

Another Letter for a Friend

It's a bit ironic that Bette Midler's "One True Friend" began playing the moment I sat down to begin writing this morning. "What I denied, I now can see, you always were the light inside of me..." I think it's a similar sentiment that prompted me to drop what I was doing for this. My world is calm today and in those moments it always feels like you should be around somewhere. "I think I'll always be aware of that missing part," you wrote me once. "And in that absence, I'm assured of your presence." Three years later that seems a general theme for my life. By virtue of not being here you very much are. Not a day goes by where I'm not aware of it.

There are so many things I have wished I could tell you; so many facets of life I wish I could share, so many pieces of insight I wish I could have received. Sometimes I wonder what I would say first if it were possible to sit down together again and talk for an hour that I know would pass too quickly. I wonder how it would feel to know every word and silence was being understood in its entirety. Where my words failed you always had them to give in terms better than I could have come up with. You're the only person I have ever known who could do that. I'm grateful to know such a thing is not as impossible as I had always believed but the loss of it hurts more than I can verbalize. That truth dims the highs and accentuates the lows. Having somebody around who knows and sees everything for what it is to me is the one piece I most desire to wedge back into the puzzle that is my life. I keep hoping that maybe I can have that again one day. I miss it.

I know that one of the first things you would ask me is how I was really doing. A genuine answer to that question always seemed more important to you than anything else I could say. Mostly, I'm doing well. Life on the whole continues to treat me far better than I deserve and I have reached a point of acceptance that the struggles I encounter are not unreasonable. I find varied success in my push to make the most of every day but I still try anyway. Sometimes the only motivating factor I have is the memory of your eyes and voice the last time you gave me your usual simple instruction about time: grab it.

I think you'd still be proud of me and the person I continue to become. Every input I have suggests that I am finding the sort of success you always said I would and that I am touching people as you believed I was destined to do. I see a lot more of the girl I met through your eyes and I continue doing the best I can to love her. I try to encourage her as you did, give her the same advice I know you would if such a thing were still possible and remind her of the treasure she is.

You were right when you said that people with their feelings and senses switched on are doubly in need of someone to protect them from the woes of the world. I have also come to accept that I am one of them. Nobody fixes everything, but I continue to thank God that there are a few wonderful people in my life who see many of the same things in me that you did. Sometimes I have to make sure I am seeing what's real instead of what I want there, but I don't think I'm incorrect in my belief that their eyes tell me everything I need to know.

Overall they do well. Still, it's a huge effort on my part to let them take care of me on a deeper level. It has yet to register just how weak and vulnerable and scared I am because they don't see any trace of that part of me. I am terrified of getting too dependent and close again; of toying with lines I should be a million miles from; of a truth I'm not proud of that continues to color every relationship I have. It's not them I don't trust. It's me. And if I blow it again somehow I think I lose even more than last time.

Maybe I was wrong when I insisted the other day that I'm not stressed. Yes work is easy, but the assertion that having little else in my life offers no other opportunity for stress is rather incorrect, isn't it? The world has shifted, but there remains tremendous weight as I try to balance it on these little shoulders. No wonder they always hurt so much.

Suddenly I remember the night you appeared on my computer screen with perfect timing and picked that world up to give me a night without it. This remains one of the simplest, sweetest gestures I have ever received, and you the best friend I've ever had because you were always able to meet me where I was at. I hope to one day be able to do the same for others but I think I need more practice before I get there. My mouth still opens too quickly.

I continue to send nothing but the very best thoughts in the direction of you and your family. Milo extends his greetings as well. Something tells me you know that but I cannot imagine it's a bad thing to have reinforced. We wonder often if you're finally in a better place free from everything that made our time walking together so difficult. It's tough knowing I will never have an answer to that question. Your happiness was all I really wanted and I will never know if you ever found it. I hope you have, and I hope you know I'm working on mine. Life is too short to spend it any other way.

~Rebecca

Captured At:1327

I have been unusually prolific this weekend. Even my mind in a calm state is prone to wander, but at least from this vantage point it doesn't get sucked in quite the same way as it does on so many other occasions. A number of little things are causing the slight smile on my lips and I find that tonight I am content.

As I ran laps around the park I realized I was wearing the same clothes as the night I jumped into the pool. I don't think my sneakers will ever lose the horrible scent they have carried since. The sunset was nicer than I expected for such an overcast western sky and I reminded myself that I need to go over there for pictures at twilight one evening. Those final moments of sunlight painting the sky are some of the most magical in the day; I think the park as it clears out would make a great place to capture them.

Today I was reminded again that God provides encouragement in many ways. It came in the form of an unexpected comment on a photo I took where I'm silhoutted against the sunrise. "I love how creative you are and that you truly know how to enjoy the simple things in life! Thanks for reminding us to take the time to see the joys that are all around us." I share this not to boast, but rather because it was such a wonderful surprise to discover. My inclination when somebody does something good for me is always to tell somebody else about it. Maybe that's a little crazy. I don't know.

I still strongly believe that the simple things matter the most. I also believe they are much better when shared. I thought of my friends often today as I bummed around my apartment. I wished they had been here to goof off with, to drag out for some frisbee or real tennis when the video game didn't cut it anymore, to join me in singing badly with whatever song came through the speakers next, or to sit on the porch and relax with as the sky grew dark.

I finish typing that and "Island" begins. This song I felt so strongly as a child only becomes more relevant as I age. It's sad, haunting, beautiful and persistent. It still resonates with so much more than I could ever explain. I see the familiar view of a starry sky from the car window and the faint reflection of a little girl sending her dreams into the heavens with every chord. Until tonight it never once occurred to me that maybe I'm not the island; maybe I'm the lonely wanderer trying to reach it. That's definitely one to ponder a bit more.

After the run I walked backwards for a smaller lap as I do every so often. The only person I passed was a woman with two little girls walking alongside her who waved and smiled as I passed in the way that young children often do. The smile I gave back grew into a huge grin when I realized they had both begun to walk backwards also. It's amazing the way we can impact total strangers without meaning to, especially kids. They'll never know it, but those girls made my night.

They also made me think of a sister I continue to be grateful for. We are different in enough ways that we would probably never have become friends on our own, but somehow the arrangement works. I'm so glad that it does and am thankful for every moment the two of us get to share as if we're kids again.

I'm still sitting here wearing a soft stupid smile as my mind wanders with the relaxed notes of "Beach House on the Moon". All of my words disappeared with them. Thought has been replaced by a gentle warmth that will let me go no further. Tonight feeling wins. Right now I think I'm okay with that.

Captured At:2123

Another Stolen Moment

There are some definite advantages to working late. Tonight it was walking out the door during the sun's final minutes awake. I climbed the stairs on the outside of the building for the first time (which is sort of surprising, all things considered) and put the new camera to use again.

I'm still a bit behind the power curve when it comes to this thing, but the piece of serenity I walked away with is nothing I will complain about.

The mosquito bites are another story. Next time I'm bringing bug spray...

Captured At:2208

Fly Away on my Zephyr...

Autumn came at me as I pulled the door closed and paused before descending the stairs. The faint breeze brushing wisps of hair against my cheek carried a familiar, unmistakable feeling. Suddenly the world was a very different place; simultaneously more painful and more wonderful than I ever could have imagined. I shook my head as an oft uttered phrase from the past week sprang to mind. Just wind? No. There was no just about it.

A low pressure system gliding over the state made this physical force of nature a theme for the week. The more I battled with the analogy I had been presented with the stronger the weather supported it.

The gusts as I ran laps forced me to push harder toward my goal each evening. Slowly I realized the point wasn't that "wind" didn't matter, it was that it was survivable. How much I let it affect me was a choice I got to make. I had always known this, it just needed to re-register. And yes, some gusts would always challenge me. That was okay.

The same strong breezes that had stressed me also provided relief from the heat that suffocated me during their absence. Reaching a place where I could feel them again became motivation to continue pressing on. Wind wasn't all bad.

Several times when there were patches of blue in the sky I got lost watching the clouds drift through it. My mind wandered with them though I know not where to. Somewhere gentle, I believe. Peaceful. Loving. Safe. So wonderful that, again, it hurt.

With my bag safely inside I shut the door, leaned against the car, and closed my eyes. I wanted to be outside a few more minutes enjoying the sensation that I could melt into the air. Halfway through a contented sigh that was no longer enough and I knew where I needed to go. Up. That's where I would be able to really feel it.

The wind at my perch was strong enough to shake my entire body. I stood in the corner and leaned against the railings for balance as the gusts hit my back full force and pushed me forward. I threw my arms out like I've done so many times at the beach. I closed my eyes and could believe I was flying. I smiled and twirled the breeze through my fingers and all I could think was, "Look, God, no hands." Anyone on the ground would have thought I was crazy. I didn't care. It felt amazing.

A line from Ecclesiastes entered my thoughts often as I ran and attempted to tackle my assignment of coming up with a better analogy. Everything is meaningless; a chasing after the wind. On one level I found it to be true. On another it fit too well with what I was trying to protest. On yet another I believed it to be completely wrong. I also couldn't decide if running through the wind was considered chasing it.

So as the tail of the storm passes over Melbourne this weekend I am forced to admit that my musings have amounted to nothing. I have journeyed and reached no end. It's that trip, though, that's the important part. Even the wind itself is in the motion of things. It's always in the process of getting to its destination, brushing past the world as it makes its way. When it arrives, it's gone. And, for now, so am I...

Captured At:2140

From Head to Keyboard...

Crashing a workshop I wasn't actually invited to is the occasion for my return to Huntsville this week. Local time is about 2130 but it feels as if it should be much later. I suppose travel and meetings that stretch on all day will have that effect.

The TV is providing background noise as I lounge in the front part of my hotel room this evening. We have made it half way through our trip and I find myself pondering more things than I believe I can put to words. Sessions like this teach me much about the world outside of my center and, as always, being on the road is teaching me about myself. It has all been very interesting to watch.

I waver between feeling like I have nothing to contribute to this group and everything to contribute to this group. As I asked questions and shared observations tonight I could clearly see the girl who "ran" a decent piece of her college campus. I understood what motivated her out of a closely guarded shell to rise as high as she did. I recognized that sense of "I know I could do this..." for the first time in years. My position has and will not change for quite some time, but it was nice to feel that sort of confidence again.

I get it. Dead on. Sometimes I wish I didn't understand as much about the world as everybody agrees that I do, but I continue to believe I am better off for it. I also continue to believe that I have a wonderful friend and mentor in my travel mate. I concede that it's a bit scary to have a relationship I hold such a positive view of - one that I seldom question - but it's a welcome change. I think I need that.

Captured At:2232

Wonders from the Road

The rear view mirror had far more of my attention than the road stretching ahead. Once again I imagined trying to explain to an officer that another traffic incident hadn't been my intention; the sky was so incredible that it seemed just as criminal not to soak it in. A dense cluster of purple clouds tried unsuccessfully to hide the sun from me, but I could still trace the path as he ascended in a brilliant shade of neon grapefruit. I wished I were sitting on the beach to watch instead of racing down the Beeline in the wrong direction. Maybe he was trying to catch up, perhaps to give a wink and a smile to send me on my way...

Several times during the breaks I would wander over to the window and poke my head through the blinds. It was impossible to tell from behind the glass that the world outside felt like autumn. I knew it to be true only from the few minutes walking between buildings and an ugly orange rental car. The first night I spotted the pale pink of a full moon as we walked into the restaurant. He was yellowish when we came out and white as I stood on the sidelines of the soccer field no less captivated by a glow I know very well. It was peaceful, yet part of me was still sad.

I suppose it's no surprise that after several days I could no longer bring myself to hide away in a hotel room when the night was still so young. I traded my flip flops for sneakers, tucked the iPod into my back pocket, and exited for a destination unknown. The outdoor commons of the dark and deserted cluster of office buildings seemed the discovery of a lifetime. I lay on the fountain ledge and let my mind wander however it saw best given the surrounding stimuli. I still don't know where it went. I'm not sure I care.

Our flight home departed around sunset and there was nothing except pure magic to be found outside my window. One of the few exchanges to break the silence was a statement of "This is when you need your camera". I had it, but I didn't move. Some moments you just need to keep for yourself. That was one of mine.

I laughed a little to myself as I gave my approval when he later flipped the mp3 player over to show me the current track. "I actually get that one stuck in my head all the time for absolutely no reason," I confessed. After a brief pause he told me he could see that: me, sitting at the end of a dock somewhere, just watching the sun go down. "I do it all the time," I said.

The sun that saw us off the runway was replaced by a moon that greeted us as we descended into MCO. I was too caught up in the reflection over the swamps to pay much attention to the towns being pointed out to me. We go back a long way, the moon and I. Sometimes he was all I had, and he was always too far away.

That night, like always, he was beautiful. I could not have asked for a better welcome home.

Four packed days have been reduced to a fraction of hours reinforcing my entanglement with the world that surrounds me. It is beautiful and amazing, resting in plain sight to be seen by all, but only truly appreciated by those who understand how to look. When found there are never any words strong enough to describe it. You just feel it - just know - and, somehow, the wonder goes deeper. Even the memory brings peace. And how precious a thing that is...

Captured At:1813