
Stonehenge
All my closing thoughts seem inadequate or overly sentimental – I remember flying home, arriving at the Victoria International airport, seeing my parents, driving back along the highway and entering the house I had called home for so long. I foresaw the unfolding of all the events in my imagination with a certainty uncharacteristic of life. There were minor variations, of course: hedges trimmed, new music on the radio, new pictures hanging on the walls, etc. They were all indicative of time passing but time that I didn’t see. Along with the ever-changing flow of life was a new faith in the genuineness of its transformation. There is a new vibrancy and clarity that accompany each relationship in my life. My time is no longer dragged down by the boredom that lingered before I left. The bustle of walking on different soils has eroded away the veil of presumptuous complacency and re-invigorated my dulling senses.

