After a night of good conversation, wine, and moonshine, the early morning flight came too early.
The alarm went off at four o’clock in the morning. Changing quickly and preparing for my flight to Sydney for a customer visit, I called my family with the help of my computer. Hoping to see them sitting down and enjoying a nice Thanksgiving meal (Thursday, Thanksgiving Day back in the states…Friday morning for me), I was disappointed to see them working on projects.
“Snow storm.” My brother said matter of factly. “Dad couldn’t make it. Margaret and John weren’t going to make it. Rescheduled it for Sunday.”
Ah yes, snow storms, the bane of holidays on the upper great plains. A turkey will keep. Stuffing can be prepared later. Pumpkin pie can be kept in a cool dry place.
But you can’t fight Mother Nature.
With a quick call to Dad, who was creating new Thanksgiving traditions of his own, “I’m watching football, eating a steak, and even watched the whole Macy’s Day parade – I’ve never done that before!” he said with some enthusiasm. “It’s not a bad parade.” He added with a bit of reflection. Wishing him a Happy Thanksgiving, I headed for the airport.
Aside from some mechanic problem that prompted me to get bumped from my flight with eighty other passengers that got me into Sydney almost an hour and a half later then expected…and almost late for my customer meeting, it was a good day – with a fantastic and wide ranging conversation with the customer as we travelled from Sydney, north towards Newcastle and through the scenic Hunter Valley.
Then, it was back to Sydney, back to the airport, and back on board, this time, heading towards the Western Australian capital, Perth.
Looking down over the landscape, it was a patchwork of fields, rivers, and streams with farmsteads scattered across the lush green fields. As my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the events of the last two days, the vision of the farm fields below brought be back to the farm of my youth, to a Thanksgiving table groaning under the weight of Mom’s cooking, to a special place filled with family and friends.
It was a pleasant nap.