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Killing time at DTW

Miraculously, all goes well. I get to the airport, have all the forms I need, get through security (the man in front of my who had several containers of rosin for his cello bow, had to give them up since he was unable to explain them) and blurrily watched several movies on the plane. I sat next to a young man who had spent several years in Hebei and Szechuan teaching English, and who is now going to grad school for a focus in game theory and biomathematics with a reference to evolution-- behavioral and biochemical. I even had something to say indicating vague comprehension of the idea! He said the first half of the year was very tough but by the end it was getting fun, and he would have re-upped but was accepted into grad school.

Nasturtiums in my back yard

At Detroit, there is an actual sparrow in the fake ficus by the coffee shop, singing its heart out. There must be another one somewhere. There are certainly many places a sparrow could call home around here. A real living being seems somewhat subversive among all the plastic, and very pleasing.

In Atlanta, there was, of course, a delay. I met someone on my flight also returning home who talked about her wonderful stay in Orvieto, in Tuscany. Next stop? Really, I'd love to go back to Spain, but preferably not in midsummer!
Flying is spooky. It is as if, once you enter the airport, you are in some kind of space/time/culture warp in which everything is synthetic-- airports, planes, sounds and sights, including the food. Then when you clear security and walk out into the sunlight, you are magically in a different place. Well, here I am, home again, as if I had not left. It's good!