Since I returned home on Tuesday, the weather has been beyond foul. Dark, pouring, occasional lightening. It is the enemy of jet lag, I tell you. Did I mention it's been dark?
Then yesterday, for about an hour, the sun came out. We threw on shoes and coats and ran outside with the dog. It was like an oasis, in some twisted way. When we came back from our walk I grabbed my camera and felt inspired to take photos for the first time in over a week. This is our neighbour's Japanese maple; I love this tree. It also seemed to be basking in the sunlight, meditating on the remnants of rain as droplets fell slowly toward the earth, no doubt making room for more.
That's sort of how I feel about my travel schedule this season. I knew I was possibly biting off more than I can chew. I mean, even after a year, I'm still learning so much about the magazine. And now I'm also learning about traveling nearly non-stop, and about crocheters from all over the country, and about being on the news, and about packing very heavily instead of lightly as I tote the trunk show from flight to flight. I imagine it'll take me months to process it all. And so it's like the tree and its raindrops in that with every trip completed I feel exhilaration and relief, and then I get ready for the next one.