For a moment I catch my breath. I hold in the fresh cut taste of lightly washed air. Flashes of the east, so long left behind, flutter through my hands. Taking a moment I flipped through my remembered photo album, I touch it with a soft smile.
The east is a beloved relative that I haven't visited for many a long over due holiday. I see the green, the fire flies, and I wish I had known that last road trip down the coast was the last until someday. I wish I had stayed for just a few more moments by the harbour and inhaled the mist from the sea.
Opening my eyes I exhale the memory. The over development is burning off already in the blazing white light. Clouds begin to disappear and open a window to the baking blue behind. I am grateful for my best friend, without him this place would still feel as remote and alien as the moon. With him, this is home.
Living is a very strange and interesting thing.
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