The long road home

The way back through the midwest was trying, again. I'd either poisoned myself by eating unrefrigerated string cheese for a midnight snack or picked up a virus along my journeys. Either of those, mixed with extreme heat in the mid-western states made me sicker than I'd wanted to be. Somewhere in Ill., with more threats of tornados in the air, I had to lie down on my van bed. After a good sleep of about an hour, I phoned the Palmers in Mansfield, OH, trying to make sense of when they could expect me the next day. Fever dulled my senses, and I was further from them than I'd thought. Another motel stay was in order.

When I arrived at Chris and Robin's, I had to immediately sleep again and all the next day. Robin heated up my request of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. Gradually, my body healed and we were able to share some good laughs like we're known to do.

Now, the following wildlife report requires a warning of possible offensive material. I must report it, though, because out of all my wildlife observations, one in a flower pot hanging under the Palmer's roof overhang was the most incredible and memorable and disgusting. Here it is!

Standing at Robin's kitchen sink, the first morning I felt well, I called to Robin, "Oh, look the mamma Robin is cleaning out the babies' nest. OOh, look she's eating it. Ooooh, my Gosh, Robin look at this." We stood, mouths wide-aghast as we watched each tiny, nude chick raise it's downy bottom into the air, squeeze out a timely blob of birdie poop, as it's OCD mother ever so gently and politely gobbled it up so it would never hit the nest floor. This was recycling at it's best, or worst - you decide.

So, I arrived home in Franklin, ME on June 29th, I think (still time disoriented). It was a great ride! But home is home, and one's own bed is one's real bed. The sunsets and sunrises will look a bit different and the big dipper will be on it's side instead of flat w/the horizon and filled with the Milky Way. There are no Elk or Grizzly bears here, but before I rise from my familiar and cozy bed, a loons laughs hysterically as it flies over my roof, and a black bear has roamed the lane in the night, a red fox yips at dusk, and coyotes with wolf blood awaken me at 4 a.m. with the chatter of excitement over a kill for her pups.

The smell of sweetgrass and fir mingle with the Holy ions of sea air, and I am home.