A CLOSER LOOK

A Closer Look 0001

Where is home?

Ascending through the clouds, coming into view was the lush vegetation and visual beauties of an island not yet known to many, yet known to a few as home. The island has its very own rhythm and dance. No matter how hard you try to emulate the native heartbeat it is only known by the few who have experienced its concerto of life. My mind, my soul, my heart and my energy they all confirm with each other that there is a special transformation that takes place as I step out of the door of the airport and inhale the life that is ready, willing and waiting to teach me just a little bit more. Forgetting that my luggage was at times an inconvenience in my journey to arrive at this island, I took my first breath of the tropic ambiance once again and let it flush the frustrations of life and all the negative dynamics that had attached themselves to myself over the last few years and invited the rhythm and dance to consume me, to bath me and to once again bring me back into the adventure and excitement of the unknown….then again…now..the known.

As I scanned the crowed gathered outside of the metal fencing crudely placed in order to control the masses that gather, in order to meet and welcome to their island those from another land, a county, an existence many will never ever get to know…..I heard a quiet yet familiar voice call out my name….Goyooo…looking up I saw the face of my wife's daughter. It was illuminated. Her son cried out the name of my wife and quickly they were united, with tears and a visual sight of gratitude.

After the welcome hugs and exited conversation, we were loaded into an SUV that we had rented before we arrived, the owner of a small other pickup loaded up our luggage, and into the city we drove. Leaving the window down and letting the smells and sounds once again make themselves familiar to me, I began to hear the song that was being sung at this place on earth. It was calling me, beckoning to me to celebrate with it, its nature and its dance.

Maybe I did notice a change, the streets seemed to have been updated, new paving on some of the much needed areas that I remembered as problematic. My mind was drifting and my observations were consuming my curiosity to the point that I just needed to unplug for a while. Shutting my eyes I listened to the family, to the traffic, to the car and to the sound of the city. The honking of the transports, the scooters, the people and the music, it all was beginning its intravenous rejuvenation of one lost prodigal son, who now was coming home. A small smile began to form at the corners of my mouth as I saw coming into view a place where I would later that night pillow my head and close my eyes to the rhythmic cadence of the fan, the music, the street, the rain and the roosters of the barrio. Yes this is and always will be called……home.