Yesterday, I left Portland on time homeward bound, but got waylaid at my next stop.. Dallas/Ft Worth. Here is something I wrote while waiting 9 hours to get on a plane to complete my trip...
Stuck in Texas and longing to be in my little piece of North Carolina, longing to see my garden, to touch the earth of home, to drink in the changes that are surely waiting for me. To revel in the magic of growth and the accomplishment of my plot while my back is turned..
I know... it has only been since Friday that I was there among the spirits of my ground and today is just Monday.. only a few days, but away I have been, though never far, for in my mind I am ever diggin' in the dirt. Away but ever connected.
I have imagined my homecoming, rushing into the kitchen-first stop, hugging my family, my loves, then a trip out to the front garden to see what those plants have been up to while I have been gone.. I'll be in by 6:30 tonight, still plenty of light, the perfect prelude to dinner, a walk in the waiting garden.....
LATER....
But the weather had other plans for me, hours now sitting, walking, waiting in the airport, plastic, impersonal, I am alone in a sea of humanity stopped by the weather and eating food that smells more like a chemical copy of food than the real thing. I am so grateful for the care package of food that my hosts sent me off with this morning as I am not forced to eat airport food to survive.
Now I will not get in until well past midnight.... We have just celebrated the new moon, there will not be much light.. so I imagine myself, flashlight in hand creeping out to the dew-damp, midnight garden to check in with nature, to touch the ground after this long, long day of waiting... will I dare, right now, waiting until morning seems an impossible task.......