October 10, 9:01, 31 degrees. I'm driving back from the airport, from putting my husband on a plane.
Still remembering the five swans flying overhead in the late evening sun, with a duck trying to ride their slipstream. The flew over the marsh, heading toward a resting spot as they gather for going south.
Got to leave, got to go, got to fly...
I love Alaska, but half my heart just left, and I'm following him - because curled up into his side, muttering snarky remarks as he smiles calmly, is home no matter where the terrain.
One wing left, a few engine issues, and I'm gone.