Day 11, Vancouver, where the rains have arrived

Tomorrow night at this time I’ll be on a plane back to San Francisco for a few days before heading off to Brazil. Three countries by Thursday seems like a dramatic transition, both a geographic and psychological switch in locations. It’s hard to even process what nearly 7000 miles means, so now I just listen to the rain’s patter against the large sunroom windows. The sound is familiar, comfortable; it lulls me into what I know before I’m decidedly headed into unknowing. Sometimes you need to cling on to that comfort in order to have the courage to really embrace being unsettled.