A return

Stepping of the plane in Honolulu, all of my reservations about returning to the islands melted away. Outside the airport, the city was foggy, steeped in trade wind mist but warm and welcoming compared to the ports of Baltimore.

As the old life became a dream and the new life once again came into focus, as my eyes fluttered open to the reality of life on faraway shores, new habits set in again. I went to my favorite restaurant and ordered Thai food. I munched on edamame and drank Arizona teas. I nervously biked the concrete jungle and remembered the hills and broken asphalt that mark to way to Travis’ and Jake’s. I hiked the ridges and mountains, from arid beginnings, through pines and mud stained trails, to jungle and rainforest on the higher slopes. I smoked and communed with my inner child, saw the stray cats and the trees of the forests as other entities sharing my experiences. Were any of us meant to live in this place? This hunk of rock spat into the Pacific, refuge for the lost and the dreamers.

I came back and remembered my other life.