Half asleep, half awake and very much groggy by still being on the painfully long seven-hour night flight, I saw the sun's early rays embrace the Cascades. I dismissed it as a dream and went back to yet another bout of interrupted sleep. Moments later, forcing my reluctant eyes wide open, I paid more attention. The flight was tearing through a thick cloud blanket while a green coniferous stretch looked up at me. There, I knew that was it.
It was really difficult to let go of the magic that Hawaii is. Strangely, it felt a little like leaving one's homeland; may be it was the overwhelmingly familiar tropical essence, or may be because I know I belong to some place else, or may be it was just the sheer carefreeness of a vacation.
And what could be more welcoming than stray clumps of daffodils that seemed to have sprouted from nowhere on the roadside. No other shade could have cheered my sleep deprived state more than their vivid, speaking yellow.
The creature of habit is back to her pad.