Landing in Marrakech, the sunlight lit a bright sand-colored city sitting in a bowl of mountains on the edge of a desert. There is something calming about the symmetry I could see from the airplane windows, but this is where this atmosphere ended.
No longer are there cameras in every shop and on every store front. No longer are there soldiers, weapons strapped across there chest, standing at every other street corner. On crowded sidewalks, there isn’t a fear of being run over by three children piled on electric bikes weaving drunken lines on the crowded walkways. On any given day it is no longer common to hear conversations in at least three different languages not my own. In line at the store, or waiting for a ticket I can now doze without the fear that someone will cut me in line. The sidewalks here, (Northern New England), have cracks like lightning bolts cut through the hilly concrete. There are no more long bus rides. The cold this winter is slow to arrive, nonetheless, the feeling of the season makes reflecting all the easier.