I still can't decide if that one night back in my own bed is the most comforting or the most disappointing of nights. Bittersweet, I suppose. Either way, I was ready to repack my yet-to-be unpacked suitcase by morning. Trip one seemed short lived (when don't they?), but well lived.
I made things. I left them there. I brought home nothing but a full roll of film, a handful of images and videos (i'll share soon), and possibly a few beautiful pieces of jewelry from that one tiny shop opposite the boardwalk. I also read a really incredible book and tried not to worry much about anything.
Until August, second home.