A River Runs Through It

I'm writing this from back in Connecticut, having arrived here after many adventures. I managed to miss the flight I was originally scheduled on, and wound up taking a later flight. I had a Chicago dog (hot dog) actually in Chicago, and discovered they're to die from/die for. Then touched down in Hartford, or Windsor, I'm never quite sure where exactly that airport is. But anyway, that's the story of me getting back from Oklahoma. I used to say, Connecticut is my home, but really anywhere can be home. Just some places resonate with you better than others. There are probably a hundred and two reasons why this is, but the fact is, that's the way it works. I'm surprised how little the state has changed, though I suppose I haven't been away that long. It rained today, something I haven't seen since the last time I was in Connecticut. It's a rare occasion when we get much more than a drizzle in Oklahoma, though when it does rain it gets pretty torrential. Looking out the window, I see 14o out the window. How many times have I been up and down that road, past this very building I'm now in, without giving it a second thought? I remember when Scitico Market was still in operation, whereas now the building is up for lease. I also drove past the point where it all began, the recruiting station. It's been a long road to get where I am, and more is still required. Good thing I have tremendous resources available. The challenges I face seem to be either equal to or less than the strength behind me- never greater. What that says about life or myself, I don't really know. It is what it is, as a sage friend once told me. I started reading at the airport, and plowed through a couple books on the way up here. It's easy to read multiple books in the same day when you don't have much else to occupy your mind. I was surprised to find a book from one of my favorite authors that I hadn't read yet. Actually, I didn't get to finish it before touching ground in CT, but it's called Kafka On The Shore, by Haruki Murakami. I always liked the style of his writing, where ordinary people (more or less) seem to find themselves in a weird, surreal world. Sometimes this is intentional, other times it just seems weird to my Westernized mind because it's set in Japan, which is a world away from New England. But it reflects an interesting world view, one where Fate is an impartial and often mysterious force, affecting people in ways that they couldn't have predicted or foreseen. Yet at the same time, these same people move and interact in this strange world in the best way they can, relying on internal resources and their external opportunities, and somehow winding up exactly where they're supposed to be. Not even the very wise can see all ends, it seems. But at any rate, I'm looking forward to the next step, the next bend in the road, and to see what the next signpost says. Not always the most legible, but always useful.