I confess that I'm not fond of reentry. I would love to be in Florida still, enjoying the beautiful days of late fall and the pleasure of the company of friends. I like to laugh and leave the cares of my own world behind for a while. But likewise I love being home. It was luxurious this morning to sleep in with McKinlee at my feet, to get up to the pot of coffee that Ken had brewed for me, and to look out the window at the leaves that still cling tenaciously to trees, preening with one final, bold showing their glorious color. Reentry is bittersweet this way, caught between the pleasures and realities of worlds that do not coexist. To shift from one to the other will be helped by the act of unpacking, running loads of laundry, and turning my attention to the pressing schedules and tasks of the day ahead. To ease the transition I have pictures, and the sharing of new, "in" jokes through blogs, emails and chats with friends with whose company I have recently parted.
With the busyness of the week between my return from Melrose and Clare's subsequent arrival and our departure to Florida, I failed to share this particular gem from my visit with Mom. She made the acquaintance earlier in her stay of a woman named Bea, who had returned from a trip somewhere and brought with her the gift of this jar of honeycomb for Mom. Bea quickly became known as the Bee Lady!
In a time in our culture when we seek locally grown provisions, there comes with that change in our habits an appreciation for the natural state of things. Like honey. I simply could not help but feel elation just looking at this jar filled with honey, never mind the delight of enjoying it on my food.
Transitions are aided by things that bring comfort, so today I am sharing my comforting honey with you all as I pick back up the rituals and routines of home. It IS good to be home, and I savor the day with the joys of life on this side of the journey.