The sound has been echoing up and down the dark, cold streets. Unidentifiable to many, those with keen sensitivity have recognized the mournful wails of lonely walls...walls accustomed to laughter, yelling, and loving have had only silence. Emptiness. Deserted despair.
The Homeplace has been a Ghostplace. Dogs are despondent, grass is brown, dust is prevalent. Plants are dying, smells are musty, pantry is bare.
Days, weeks too, even months. 2011 brought busyness, preoccupation, deadlines, and goodbyes.
But for a brief few days, all is well again. Washers are churning, tails are wagging, stoves are cooking, dust is flying. Laughter has returned, jetlag has turned middle-of-the-night lights on, and focus is flying around.
It's good to be home.
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