This past week has been filled with travels...
An epic journey to Iowa and back...
Miles disappear as laughter fills the car, and rolling hills dotted with silos provide a picturesque backdrop as Wisconsin merges into Iowa and back again...
A sail across mighty Lake Michigan...
"We're in the middle of a whiteout!" an excited, bearded, ponytailed man shouts to his family as the ship horn blows at regular intervals.
Down in the movie lounge, while animated vegetable men, mice, and princesses enact monomyth tales on the TV screen, I flit in and out of sleep...
H and I make a trip upstairs to peer out the window at a gauzy white world, the boat gliding in the middle of the sweet-water sea.
"Should we be worried?" I ask H.
"We're the biggest fish out here," H says.
We return to the darkened room where S is soundly sleeping, and watch as the animated film gives way to ESPN...
I try to remember seafaring tales and favorite moments from Moby Dick. I think about the camaraderie that arises on a floating home, how my inner balance constantly adjusts to the steady undulation of waves beneath my feet. I wait, increasingly impatiently, to feel terra firma, to spot the sandy dunes of Michigan rising above the water, and then, to see the smiling faces of my parents greeting my friends and me, welcoming me home.
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