I was on the run for three days, from one Permaculture Presentation to another, sleeping all over the place.
Look what welcomed my worn out old self back for the last event - A vase of wildflowers on the breakfast table on my deck. Clover, self-seeded poppies, erigeron.
I knew it wouldn't have been Asaba-san - she loves and accepts everything, and you can't co-ordinate without 'ordaning' that some things belong, and some don't. "I'm like a man", she says "no sense of style".
"Yoko-san!" I guessed.
Then I walked into my room - drying dandelions at my window. With Yoko's fingerprints all over them.
I remembered one of the books she wrote and illustrated. I saw it 11 years ago, when I last visited her as a Servas traveler. It was called something like 'Come on!". A mother is getting her child to hurry hurry, put on shoes, put on coat, run up the hill to see - a sunset.
The whole world alive in vivid orange and mysterious mauve.
Yoko is rough in conversation, not Japanese at all.
But a Master of generating delicately dramatic surprises.
But Yoko, I want the new me to be like you, a richer giver of surprises.