I am about the face the real first day back to 'normal' life: work, school, chores...the unavoidable, but essential duties that make life proceed.
It's 4:17AM, however, so in some ways, I still have time to dwadle. I can still pretend like when the sun rises later on this morning, we can all head to the sea, and hear the orchestra of the birds and watch the coconut trees sway in the morning breeze.
Once the afternoon arrives, and the tide starts to go down, the children will have an expansive classroom of oceanography. Momo would hum as he stalks wind-crabs or wait for them to emerge from their tiny holes; Dara would skip into the shallow of the tide while announcing whatever was in her head to the world. If she found something interesting, she would run over to us, full of excitement, as though she had just found a block of gold.
Jim and I would lay on the much coveted beach chairs, next to some extra large, non-English speaking, too burned to move, Russian tourists who attempted to steal our chairs earlier that day. But we would be absent from that world, immersed in our books. I would continue to enjoy the trip through Europe and Asia with Paul Theroux as he retraced his steps from his earlier trip (and book) he called The Great Railway Bazaar, only to rename it: The Ghost train to Eastern Star.
Now, that's better. A little reminiscing during a bout of jet-lag goes a long way. I am now ready to pay bills, make lunches, await the sound of little feet coming down those stairs (hopefully in two hours). I am ready to face the new day.
