I can hear the tumble and rumble of thunder from my hotel room and although I have been up for 12 hours and am exhausted, I am exhilarated, excited and about to jump out of my hotel room.
The rain is coming down and I'm sitting in a plush overstuffed chair watching the wind whip the trees. It's been so long since I have been in this part of the country. The last time, I said goodbye. I've missed the moisture and greenery and adventures. I used to drive the abandoned highways around the airport and get myself lost in horse trails. I remember the deer vertebrae I found one afternoon, while hiking in high heels after a day of tough meetings. I remember the battlefield I explored after battling in HQ conference rooms. The temporal friends I met hiking in Shenandoah and our subsequent event in DC clubs. I remember my trips to Alexandria to meet with old friends. People I have long since lost touch with. Extravagant dinners, awkward pauses. Evening phone calls to a different home, a different city, a different life. I remember these times with joy - for one instant, because I am present, and I am planning the future.
I have returned. And I am greeted by the plush rain, sky alight with nature's fireworks: crash and flash and grey sheets of rain. It's not a homecoming, but a return to long list of successes. A beginning in familiar soil. This time, I fully intend to create the road to success, instead of tread on one laid out by executives.