wade in the water
When you’ve been out galaxy-trekking for a month, it takes some effort to swing back into your normal orbit again. The physical disorientation wears off quick but jetlag of the heart lingers.
I shut my eyes and my feet are padding along the curve of the San Francisco Bay.
I close my eyes and I’m leaning over the ferry railing, hair whipped by the wind, hurtling through the salty mist toward the city.
I close my eyes and I’m calling across the water to my grandfather as we kayak our way to Sausalito for lunch.
I close my eyes and two small boys are pulling me across Muir Beach, into the bracing Pacific.
I close my eyes and I’m not completely back yet. But I’ve missed you all terribly and I can promise you’ll be seeing more of me around these parts. Pinky promise.