My most recent bout of minor homesickness has been precipitated by three things, I think. Number one, my brother just left, which reminded me of that other time my other brother left after living with me for two or three years. It was right after my wedding; he took off for Seattle of all places. Few places are farther away and still within the US. Anyhow, Will’s recent leaving sparked a similar, though much less intense feeling that a chapter has just ended. And chapters ending is always a nostalgic thing if the book’s good.
Number two: we’re freakily close to returning home. It’s not so much that I’m in a hurry to get out of here. That’s not it at all. It’s just I know that it is fast approaching and it’s gonna be weird, comfortable, uncomfortable, busy — it’s the biggest thing on the horizon. And it’s hard not to look at it, is all.
Number three: my Wisconsin clock is stll ticking. Quito feels warmer these days. Not because it is, but because it’s been imprinted upon my being that the weather should be getting warmer now. I find myself craving things like mowing the lawn, hearing flies buzz, humidity, running outside, making diving catches for frisbees. The concrete views of Quito are getting tiresome. I want green, open spaces.