“‘Come on, John,’ he said, ‘the longer we look at it, the less we shall like it.'” CS Lewis, The Pilgrim’s Regress
Every time I walk the long corridor toward the open door to the long tube I will spend a day sitting in, taken high up into the clouds in, waiting and waiting in, I like it less. But considering the miracle of flight — and the distance I can cover in an extraordinarily short time — not to mention that my generation possesses the opportunity to light into the air like the birds, I can’t justifiably complain. It was a 10 hour flight from Charles de Gaulle to YVR and the time flew with me.
We are home on our little Island in the sun. My garden delivered up a large bowl full of ripe strawberries this morning. The potatoes compete with the garlic and the weeds have adopted an attitude of permanence, thinking they can hide from me. All is lush and lively in my tiny subdivision-sized plot.
Oh, it’s good to be home!
