Safe at home
In 1998 I was in Boston for a conference. Had a GREAT time.

The last leg of the return flight was quite stormy. Lightning, thunder, lots of turbulance. It only got worse as we descended through the clouds on our approach. I didn't have much experience flying at that point, so I was fighting off the hot flashes that come right before air sickness. White knuckles cramping, working the hell out of my deep breathing relaxation techniques.

Suddenly we break below the clouds to still, calm air. A tear came to my eye as I beheld my home town, my familar fields, the skyline, the buildings I shop in, the major road I take to drive home each day. The rain having washed the city clean, the green on the trees and fields sparkly and new, metal roofs shining, and everything looking just right. I nearly broke down as all this burst on me and the line from Sheryl Crow's "Home" rang in my ears. "This is hoooo-ooo-o-ome, this is home."

It was a beautiful moment that made me realize just how important home is to me. Boston's great, but it's not home.

BTW, I later read the lyrics to "Home," and it's about a woman trapped in a horrible marriage. Still a pretty somg, though.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Wed 16 Mar 2005, 15:00, Reply)