The clock has ticked over to August 4th. I’m in bed listening to the full-speed hum of the box fan sitting in the middle of my room. There hasn’t been much time for reflection since returning to Portland.

The stand-out features of the city are the people— the weaving masses of varying shapes, sizes, colors, styles, and energies. It’s weird to be in a place again where modernity extends beyond a five block radius.

The scent of pine trees and sweet bloom of flowers saturates the air. It’s been stronger than any gas fumes or trash piles I’ve passed. My favorite are the orange roses— they make me think of tangerines, even if the scent harkens closer to a candy perfume.

Within a week I’ve gone from unemployed to three jobs and from twenty-nine to thirty years old. I got a new (old) car, a new (new) phone, and have been on a reunion tour seeing friends and family. The first three days were a productive, adrenaline fueled, sleep deprived, jet lagged mess. Even now, I wouldn’t count myself fully back to normal. But it’s closer than the stumbling sentences and wide-eyed stares I’d give as the jump-start realization that I’ve crossed half the world wasn’t a dream.

There’s a host of feelings within me about this transition, but I think they’ll marinate for a while yet.

Grateful for the adventure(s) and grateful for the new start at home.

The creative stories will trickle back in time— no doubt fueled by the last gasps of summer as I turn my attention towards my new soccer teams.

At thirty years old, I feel like I’m at a start again, but this time around I’m armed with tools, experience, and confidence. The combined return from Japan and start of a new decade has a touch of unmei to it. I look forward to seeing how it plays out.