I lean over from my blanket cacoon and see a sheet of whiteness outside the oval window. I keep looking though, searching for the first glimpse of the city I love. Gradually the haze clears and I look out to this rainy vista, small brick-red houses sprawl organically, surrounded by verdant trees that from this height appear to have been drawn by small children, lollipop-like. I can't explain the emotion that comes with the familiarity of a tree. Such a simple thing, on an ordinary day I must see hundreds. But I've been away. Not for a long time, but long enough to ache for home, for friends and the parts of me that will forever exist only in this city. A kind of joy, a relieved kind of joy, passes through me, and I know I'm gonna have a great time. This is the city I love.
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