December´s Endless Summer, Part 2

It´s going to be legen...wait for it...DARY!

On the cusp of returning home, leaving Iceland, feeling slightly wind-tossed and worn-down, looking forward to coming home and concerned that the glow of homecoming will wear off leaving behind, just, you know...normal life. What if that happens? What if I have to go back to real life? That would be...well...normal?

It´s funny traveling with sister-like creatures because, well, they´re sisters. And that means a lot of things. Infinite comfort and ease. Safety in the assurance that you´ll get wrapped in a soft down-comforter and cozied up with those warm bodies no matter how much of a dragon you´ve been all day.

And we all have our days.

And then there are those days. The days when you are your most wretched self because you´re exhausted with yourself, exhausted with the destructive rhythms which reappear over and over again between people you´ve known and loved and fought with over and over again. Those days though, don´t end with tears. And if they do, night pours ambrosia in your ear which mixes with your dreams, of memories of marco polo in California and buttered toast with jam and cheese in Iceland. You wake up, and it´s ok. It´s her, after all.

H: So, are you guys going back tomorrow?
S: Wait, what?!
H: Back to the pool...
S: Oh! I thought you meant back to California.
A: Yeah, jeeze, it wasn´t that bad of a day...

So I´ll be sad to leave. And glad to return, home and back to Iceland. No question.