Today was a long drive under all the wonderful clouds. We are listening to The Odyssey on audio book, and Odysseus has finally arrived to his native land of Ithaca. I chose this book with all the intentions of losing myself in someone else’s journey while I had my own.
Odysseus was in a deep sleep when they laid him on the shore, and he didn’t even recognize his homeland in the fog the next morning.
We are bouncing from our (most recent) home in San Francisco to David’s family’s home in Connecticut, to my family’s home in Virginia, all to go to our new home in London, which is actually David’s old home. So much home and so long a journey. It was hard to see the home SF was when we were there, and maybe it will be the same in London.
The fog around Odysseus always made unclear his perceptions. His sleep was like a death as a journey-hardened man arrived to his home. The man and the home from before were gone, and the fog made anything familiar inaccessible.
So, I watched the clouds and rain and fog today, hoping for better visibility as we drive through Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana.