Bulbous, heavy clouds split wide open yesterday, just after I climbed down from Randy Rivere’s tractor and left his sugar cane field. (ah, but that’s a story I’ll save for another day…) In the 24 hours since then, it has poured unabated, in a way that makes you forget that sunshine ever existed. Thunder builds again in the distance, rolling toward me, flattening the air as it comes, until it presses down on my little cottage. I huddle into my jacket and cradle a cup of dark chicory coffee, inhaling its woody scent. Enormous, shimmering leaves reach onto the porch and flap in the wind like elephant’s ears, while everything else dances like a scene from Fantasia.
Connections
Hello! First of all, thank you to so many of you who wrote with kind words and good wishes for my safe travels home. It was great fun to check my iPhone whenever I stopped and see your messages. Thank you! It feels great to be home.
As promised, I want to pick up where I left off and share the last week of this journey with you, because it was magic to the end!
Sweetness
I awoke to the sound of rain on the roof and opened the door to smell it and record a bit of it for the slide show. By the light from the porch light, I could watch it splattering and running off the leaves of some enormous tropical plant. Each leaf is about 3’ by 2’ and bounces joyfully with the drops. It looked like something out of the movie Fantasia and I could almost hear the music. A bird of some kind joined in chirping to the beat, oblivious to or enjoying the dark and the rain. It might have been nice to sleep in a bit, but this body is far too accustomed to being out before sunrise to allow that. I am content.