far too much writing, far too many photos

Today: long, hot, busy, me in the throes of prep. for tomorrow’s return to the States. Thank god Madrid summers are humidity-free or it would be brutal. As it is, the mornings are nice, the afternoons heat up, the evenings are long and comfortably warm, and the temperature drops to slightly cooler levels as the night wears on. Stick to the shady side of the street during the afternoon hours, it’s doable.

I’ve got packing to be done so can’t take much time here. One strange thing, though: I’ve found myself feeling unsure where I belong. It’s a weird, unsettling place to be. When I left in April to return to the States, I told people they could locate me in Vermont during the warm season and beyond that I had no idea. That remains more or less the case. I’ll probably be there until sometime in October, when the northern world begins turning unstoppably toward winter — that’s all I know. Back here then? Maybe. Time will tell.

I’ll be in transit tomorrow, will spend tomorrow night with friends in the Boston area. By Tuesday evening, I should be back in those green hills, out in quiet, rolling countryside.

As I sit here in Chueca — people outside gathering in the plaza to sit and talk over tapas and drinks, bats flying in great looping circles outside my window as darkness gently descends — Vermont seems inconceivably far away.

Be well.

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