Home, briefly

Much too much flying, all of these planes (six) and airports (six, three of which were new to me, though none—Minneapolis/St. Paul, Dallas/Ft. Worth, or Atlanta—hold a candle to PDX in terms of a humane airport experience). But I'm back to muggy NY and done with the initial unpacking. The rest is all fine-tuning. Hoping for real sleep tonight. Pictures tomorrow, only words today from the very end of Jhumpa Lahiri's Interpreter of Maladies, which ushered me through two flights today:

I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.

I'm not an immigrant, but I often feel such bewilderment.