Ah, lah. The wind is still whipping, it is overcast. We have not begun to pack. We are drinking coffee.
I don't see a soul up here at Hotel B although I am sure they must be. The waiters last night at the fiesta were still the same ones who were here at breakfast. How do they do it? What would happen if suddenly all of the roles were reversed and the waiters became the waited upon, the guests became the waiters?
I wonder about things like that.
Well. We need to get busy. I can feel myself being pulled towards home.
I can't wait to see everyone. My babies, my babies. They have all done a good job of taking care of each other but I know I am needed. That is not a bad feeling.
Time to pack. Time to take the scooter back. Time to say good-bye. Time to fly home and say hello.
I don't know why you say good-bye, I say hello.
Sssh, wind. Be calm now. Sssh heart. Be calm now.
All is well.