Enga mellom fjella

The miracle of it all

There is the miracle of it all.

The 50 minute walk back home. The vertigo to overcome by the river's edge. The crawl across the bridge. 42 steps looming ahead. The halt before the door.

The turn of key and Sadie waiting for me on the bed, the geraniums not dead and the place mostly clean.

Home waits for me, the wanderer, but whether it laments I do not know. Myrt called; Lavinia called; did anyone else notice I was gone?

I was gone one week and two weeks from now I'll be gone once more.

We shall see whether this miracle will repeat itself again.

Montana: clear and cool. 48° at midnight in Missoula.

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