Tonight will be my last night falling asleep looking up at the stars fading off across the universe from this other world that has been my home. The hours that I’ve spent in quiet contemplation in my Marmot sleeping bag, listening to the waves crashing down or the crickets in the distance, will soon be a thing of the past. Tomorrow, we head home. Our great Baja adventure is at long last seeing its final moments. The concept of returning to America, the country I call home, the place I was born and raised in, seems so abstract, more so even than the idea of leaving it was. When we first crossed the border, my heart was broken by the fact that we had deemed it necessary to separate ourselves from our brothers and sisters by means of a concrete fence. But even then, the idea of this family was entirely conceptual, they seemed hidden by the concrete veil that stretched off to the horizon. But these times seem a thousand years behind me, even while I sit here within 100 Kilometers of the border, less than a day from my return to that place I’ve always called “home.” Now it is the idea of leaving my new family behind to hide myself again behind that ghastly curtain that brings my mind to contemplation. While the idea of a month seems so long, in practice, it is by no means enough time to find more than a few of the truths of a place. I wish so much that I could learn more about this place that I have come to love. I feel as though I am a child again, lost in a place I know nothing about. But for now, I must return. Both my home and my heart have grown with all the love I’ve been given here. All journeys must end; perhaps it is time to find a new beginning.
By: Forest Neff