Back in Gloucester

Isn't it ironic that you can be someplace and enjoy it so much that you don't miss home until you arrive back home? It makes you realize how much you like living in a certain place.

Well I enjoyed my time in Tampa-St. Pete very much. God was abundantly present to me each day that I was just glad to be where I was and not yearn to be in a different place. As I arrived back in Boston, I enjoyed the hour-long train-ride through the North Shore to Cape Ann. I live in Gloucester. It feels like home.

The train ride provided excellent scenery. The ocean-front property in Revere and the bustling city of Lynn gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. The coasts of Swampscott, Salem, and Beverly looked festive while Prides Crossing and Manchester looked pastorally reflective. The taxi driver to the retreat house was animated with his chatter about the Red Sox, especially Jacoby Ellsbury because he is part Native American.

The property of Eastern Point looks immaculate. While I was away, the tree-cutters removed the brush from the property. I feel so grateful that the business manager and his staff were able to organize the removal of all the debris. The property looks well maintained. I just want to spend many evenings out there because of its beauty. The sunset sparkled through the tall pines this evening as if they were glowing embers from a dying fire.

I had terrific hosts and I was proud of my retreatants, and I'm glad to be home. Isn't it great to be a "both, and" people?