It’s good to be missed. After almost-daily posts from our cycling trip, my output has definitely dwindled. To be more accurate, it’s come to a complete halt. And it was noticed. Granted, it was my siblings who commented on my literary absence, but it felt good nevertheless. It’s good to know I have readers who enjoy my posts.
Between resettling at home and catching up on my volunteer duties, I’ve been at a loss for inspiration. Compared to pedaling through an ever-changing array of new sights and adventures every day, life at home is quiet. Or is it? Taking stock of the three weeks we’ve been home, I realize that I’ve journeyed through a litany of emotions and personal experiences that rival many of my traveling highlights.
Enduring friendships – Sharing in a private dinner party for a dear friend to celebrate her 75th birthday. Spending the night in her North Shore home, waking to the sunrise over Lake Superior and lingering over a delicious breakfast prepared by her husband. Delightful.
Truly moving moments – Losing a close friend to cancer. Attending her Celebration of Life service, hugging mutual friends and witnessing the multitude of people whose lives she touched. Such an outpouring of love.
Nature’s beauty – Running in the dark of the morning, as the days get progressively shorter. Watching the sun pop over the horizon to shine across the water and spread its colors into the clouds above. Every day different. Each one gorgeous.
Little hugs – Filling the house with kids and grandkids for the weekend. Swishing through the leaves on the nature trail. Playing Pooh Sticks on the bridge. Seeing the world through their eyes. Never a dull moment. Tiring, but oh so worth it.
Cabin time – Nestling in front of a crackling fire on a chilly evening. Listening to the radio to play Green Cheese. Preparing the cabin for the winter season. Calm and quiet in the off-season.
No, travel is not essential to finding inspiration. I need only open my eyes to what is around me. And it’s good to be home.