When the clock struck 5:00 PM Friday, my last day in Katrina territory, I tossed the last of my stuff in the van, wiped the floors and counters in the trailer, of mud, then disappeared down the road as the sun faded beneath the horizon. By the time I was at the Mississippi - Alabama border I was in total darkness. It seemed appropriate that my time in Mississippi should end in darkness.

Normally, I am a wanderer as I travel, taking the side roads and exploring the small corners of the countryside as I travel. I love the newness of this country as I pass around a corner, top a hill or crawl through a tiny village.

Not this trip. Not this time. Somehow I needed the anchor of my home to return to. Perhaps it was a reassurance of my blessings. I don't know I just needed to be there “now”. So I drove until I could go no farther, stopping at a motel just short of Tennessee.

When the sky began to hint of a
 morning sunrise with a tint of
 pink I was back on the road.
 My only stops were to grab a
 bite to eat, gas the car, and
 fulfill a commitment I made
 to stop at my son's newly
 remodeled house to snap
 a few photos. Even at his
 house I was impatient,
 wanting to be back on the
 road, where normally
 I would have lingered.

I raced to beat the sun to the horizon. I lost, but not by much. As I rolled into my driveway to the whiteness, under the streetlamps, of a Michigan winter, I thanked God for all my blessings, including the snow and cold.