One of the wonderful things about travel and seeing something new is how it makes the details of your own life stand out. Crossing the threshold to home, everything seems just as you left it, but it can never be the same.
When I come back from a journey, I return to the scene of my flawed life with a sense of renewal. The invisible becomes again visible. I'm often filled with inspiration as my foray into the bigger world leaves its mark.
This time I am inspired by a beautiful fall in New England. The colors have reached into my soul and painted a vision there. It helps that I visited people that I love, and that for once nothing went wrong along the way! It all stacked up perfectly. No delayed flights, dings to the rental car, or lost baggage.
It's further helpful to have toured a home or two from a genteel time, and a homey sensibility. Standing inside the very rooms of genius and beauty leaves a trace on you that you want to carry with you always. But unfortunately (or fortunately) this kind of inspiration has a certain shelf life, and you have to feed it again and again.
The travel souvenir developed to fulfil this very purpose. This time I brought home these transferware dinner plates from an antiques shop along a Vermont byway in the hills. They are already busy finding their places among my things.
The minute I saw this page from Country Living Magazine waiting in my mailbox I couldn't wait to unpack, and lay things on the table.
Before I left, I thought I would pass on this little tea tray to someone else, but it welcomed me home more than anything else sitting here waiting on my dining table.
How could I have missed before that it was painted long ago by someone named Rain?
So I'm settling in. Letting the afterglow wash over me before the mundane sets in. There are bills to pay. Calls to make. The stepping into my routine once again, which carries its own blessing.
But for now the beautiful details stand out. Life is sharper. I'm mulling over lines about apple picking time, and roads traveled, and Yankees from Connecticut and such. It's all stewing warmly and deeply, and emanating a pleasing savor. . . .
Thanks so much to all of you who stopped by with a word while I was tramping around in the woods! I'm looking forward to getting back to you all.
Good to be home.