I’m home. Easiest flight ever. No one sat beside me on the long haul from Shanghai, which is heaven when I want to stretch out without feeling like I’m going to clock someone in the face with my elbow. Even Chicago was pleasant. The only wrinkle, actually, came in China. My dad was pulling into the airport parking garage, and one of the guards stopped us. He wanted to see my passport. Just mine. Other cars were driving past, unhindered, but he singled us out—probably because I look like a foreigner. He wrote down my visa and passport number, along with my name, and then let us go. But it was weird, and slightly unpleasant.
Home, though, is home—and I’ve been gone for a month. I took a nice long walk this morning, camera in hand, and snapped some pictures of the things I’ve been missing. Ate a pear and a peach direct from the tree, and enjoyed the sun and clean air. And while it’s more than 80 degrees here, I must confess to wearing a sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and a hat. I’m used to warmer temperatures plus humidity now, and I’m freezing.
Below, I’ve uploaded pictures of the pear tree, peaches, black walnuts, tomatoes, a lost little nest…and one very noble dog.
