Fall to Spring to Summer to Winter

There is so much to write about, yet I seem to have few words to say. I'll start with what's most remiss: my gratitude and thanks to those in the States. To those I did not see for their understanding, and especially to those with whom I was able to spend some time. It was rich.
Words cannot properly express (in a so-called normal visit) the joy and the pain, the pleasure and the gap in having that time together, Even harder in these days has it been to see you and carry onward.
The title is a reference to the temporal traipse that took me from the solstice in the Southern hemisphere to the other side of the world in it's (other) solstice. It could have been interstellar travel for all I knew as the reel of daily life had little reference save gravity's pull.
And I hate to use the descriptor, but it was surreal seeing everyone still carrying on in their lives. I don't know what I expected to see--and I was touched frequently at the poignancy I felt in each everyone's presence.
It is always such a tug at the heart to come (some say) home. I'd wondered if I was more vulnerable to that in the circumstances--and concluded i'd just see. Yet the same things that have always driven me mad with their power; the complacency, resignation, the apathy; racism, rationalization and distraction all in the midst of great intellegence; the trashing of a great land; the congestion, pollution and entitlement. It's still a drag, and there's evermore no excuse.
Never more in my life's experience has the bounty, the spoils of the world market been so apparent. Had I any sense, I may have loaded a container for a lifetime, maxing out my credit card, so cheap were the prices I was seeing in the midwest and Colorado. Candy, water barrels, books and clothes, building materials, make-up, you name it. For it is all.more.expensive.elsewhere.
But I was not thinking any more of a lifetime. The dream of building a home had been borne away, as if by some fierce channel winds. It was all I could do to just be. with whom. I was.
A lot of recovery was done while I was in the States. No one told me what to do (Bless You!)--we simply talked, did stuff, got some things that needed, done. Sorting through some physical boxes of, well things; just talking and being together was the best medicine I couldn't ask for.
One that there is no prescription for (me, yet) in New Zealand.

You have my eternal gratitude (in only an unweighted temporal, time order!):
Mom, Christopher, guy at the phone shop who set me up for pennies, the memory of my grandparents, Tom Mc, law enforcement between Ohio and Colorado for not suspecting me in my rented Soprano-mobile, North Coast Brewery (not a sponsor, unfortunately it's the other way around) the Sheridan family, Diana H., M&m Mars Co. and Darryl. Each of you really, really helped and enriched me.

Love, love love~~!

Jesse