And Whither Then? I Cannot Say

So after all the wonderful photos and countless days of joy, tears (mostly mine), and silliness (of the most meaningful sort), the era of the Road Trip has officially come to a close. Tommy and I dropped off Devon and Ross at a (remote and unbelievably gorgeous) WWOOF farm in the Marlborough Sounds, where we sang one last round of "The Four Best Friends" in front of a herd of sheep. And then, unexpectedly, I dropped off Tommy at the Picton ferry terminal so that he could start a long, difficult journey back to the States for his grandfather's funeral. Lights up on me, alone in the Sounds, the lone driver of our car, the sole guardian of our fuel canisters and musty cooler bag. When life decides it's time for you to make a change, it's not always a gentle process.

It's always surprising how quickly a travel experience, even of the least stable sort, begins to feel like your one and only "real life." Leaving Devon and Ross felt like The Band breaking up or your kids leaving home, and when I said goodbye to Tommy I told him to come home soon. You may well ask: by "come home" do I mean leave his family and his hometown and come back to a foreign country where we live out of a car...to meet me at a farm that neither of us has ever seen before? Yes. Strange as it sounds, that's actually what I mean. And I know when I see him coming up the driveway, that's exactly how it's going to feel.

But now, for a short time, home is just me. It's a butterflies-in-the-stomach kind of feeling. I have five days to myself, then a journey to our first WWOOF stay near Kaikoura, which I'll be starting solo, and then Tommy will be back in about a week and a half. Not a ton of time, really, but with all the changes in the air it feels very new and unknown.

There's a new chapter heading on this next page of the story, I think, but I don't get to read what it is right away. You have to listen slowly and carefully. You look for clues. And no use trying to guess early - you have to let the story reveal itself to you in its own sweet time, or you risk not hearing everything it has to say. It's sounds a little mystical and zany, but that's the best I can do for you right now. It's time to set out on the next leg of the adventure.