The return...

Ah we are home.  Home to spring; with snowdrops and daffodils in the garden and fresh billowing sunshine drying our clothes on the line.  Our trip was incredible, but now we've swapped vibrant, glorious heat buzzing night-markets, filled with stalls selling little coconut pancakes and mounds of fresh fruit; scorching coloured silks; handpainted paper umbrellas and all manner of exotica, for the cool orderly aisles of the Co-op.  I am now bumping into young mothers, commuters and villagers as I walk down the village street rather than Budhist monks, chattering laughing children and tuk tuk drivers. The moist warmth, the searing heat, the rivers and temples are a long plane-ride away but they are still with me when I close my eyes.