Wow. The roosters are really loud today.

I try my best to tip-toe through the room for clothes, find what I need to wash my face and put in contacts and get ready for the day.

I look at my watch. Oh good, Moosewood is just opening. I have her come with me to get coffee and some pastries for the others.

Cinnamony.

Baby persimmons.

Had I understood what everyone meant by going to the river, I would have packed appropriately. We find the rockier parts of the beach and they try to skip rocks while I watch the water run. Yes, I need to be closer to water.

I try to fight away the pang of pre-departure sadness.

Filtered or unfiltered 2015 PInot Noir? We’ll take both.

Suitcase rosé of Syrah while we sit in these chairs for the last pre-dinner drink. I say something about wondering if I’m naive in thinking that I really can have a life that I don’t need to vacate. That I want travelling to be about experience and exploration, not escape.

I could eat this plum tart for the rest of my life.

I sit at her table and we talk about the ills of digital connectivity, privacy in the digital age, life-altering experiences, the definition of sanity. She starts every other story by telling me that’s she’s a private person, but “I’ll tell you this.” Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight. He asks me how old I think she is, I say she’s at least 80 but maybe older.

Another pang of pre-departure sadness.