In 1993, December
31st, I got on a jet plane. Went to live in England. A time when
I owned nothing but books and clothes. No car, no job, just a degree and certain
lack of clue as to what to do with my shiny new future.
Ten years have slipped spooling past. More than any reunion, this trip is a passing
of a marker.
I have a car (paid for), a house (manifestly not ), a career, friends, lines, ties.
My wings are no longer wet. I am well into mid-flight. Time to return in circles
gyre. Spin wide and wheel away to areas I've never been.
So, 2004, after months of preparative hiking and walking, a jet plane to that green
and pleasant land, that Britannic island in that Atlantic sea.