Another Journey Ended

Circa Summer 2010

It began at 0627
I like weird alarm times. 
Showered, dumped the leftover food, 
and bleary eyed trudged across down with 60 lbs of luggage
stuff i needed at home
and stuff i didn't need in Sweden that could be returned. 
and was sweating like a pig
when I arrived
so much for the shower...

Started Killing Pablo at the gate check.
Read it straight through
Finished it somewhere over Greenland. 
While the crappy movies churned onward
and sleep never came.

and then New York City.
That beating heart of the entire world.
More people within 150 miles of JFK
than live in the entire California-sized country of Sweden
It brings back just how huge America is
Just how fast we exploded
in 200 years
How rapidly we expanded
How relentless, and ruthless
and we took in people from everywhere
and we get along
for the most part
on such a huge scale
Maybe that's the American Dream, now,
in this economic crunch
Cause you can't all get rich
But we've shown 300 million people can live on half a continent
and, for the most part, put their differences aside
and pursue happiness
for the most part...
and the cars pulsed in and out on the highways like blood through so many veins
day and night
endless comings and goings
grinding away into the future
pumping, pulsing, alive
new york...


It always helps to say 'Sir' and 'Ma'am' to the Customs employees. They must hate their jobs somedays, so look them in the face and call them Sir.
Trust me.
You'll get through faster.
If you look nervous or disrespectful
you'll pay for it. 

and then waiting and waiting and waiting for the connecting flight
with the morbidly obese woman and the transvestite and the hillbilly from GA who smelled like pee
and the old man with the oxygen tank who sat in front of me on the flight and defecated on himself while we waited in the taxi-line-up for 40 minutes and had to change runways. how that smell filled the hot little plane...



and then...

then....


we were off. and up. and following the Hudson north
and I looked to port and saw that sharp bend in the river, and island,
and new that that awesome/terrible old Academy was nestled there,
dark and tall, a shadow in the green hills

and the river stopped, and the forests began, and the foothills
and then, just after she served the coke and pretzels
the lake began
Champlain
stretching 180 miles north to home
and we followed it
as Champlain must have done himself, through from his canoes he could not see the full beauty of the valley
up past the islands
up past Fort Ticonderoga
and the sun beat through the clouds, given it a mottled patchy appearance, parts grey and the rest brilliant white from the reflected light
and the mountains began
my mountains
The adirondacks
Giant and Dix and Marcy and Rockypeak Ridge and the Wolfjaws...
and under the plane were the Greens, 
Camelshump, Mansfield
and far off to the right you could see the big ones, in New Hampshire, the Whites and the Presidential range
Adams, Panther, towering Washington, 
three familiar spines of the earth
guiding me home


10 minutes to landing, we banked, lower,
and the lake looked like a giant blue snake, covered in scales
from the wind whipped waves, seething
as boats played about on the surface
and I saw Valcour
and I saw Gunboat island, that flat little rock the British tried to sink in the fog 
when Benedict Arnold tried to slow them down
and they wasted their shot on an island while the rebel Americans scattered and fled
and I saw the marina across the lake and knew my house was there, at the edge where the trees began
and in the north Sutton and Jay Peak and the mountains went on into Canada and were lost against the northern sky

and this whole green valley
every tree
and quaint little house
every river and field, verdant green
every forest, dark with pines
and every sharp blue peak standing sentinel against Time...
this was home. and so was I.