I have always seen life as a series of journeys. Some, like going to the hospital for open heart surgery, are big. Some, like going to Brooklyn today, are smaller.

I love the energy of New York, especially Brooklyn these days, and I love the peace of coming  home. This is a curious journey for me, in part because Maria isn’t coming. She’s staying behind to make are and care for the farm.

But there are few few trips we don’t take together. In a sense, I’m going into strange territory, even though it’s family. I don’t see Emma and Jay and Robin often, that makes the trip all the more necessary and important.

They are all that is left of my family in many ways, and it is important to know them and be with them. My life on the farm, is deep and rich and full, and it is hard for me to leave my farm, Maria, the dogs, my photos and my blog. It’s silly, really, I’ll be back on Tuesday.

But in a large sense, you are my family now, complete with all of our adventures and spats and lively conversations. There is a lot going on in my life, which is the way I like it, and I value the great dialogue we have together. I also value the good work we are doing together.

I’m excited to be getting on the train, seeing some different things, clearing my head, getting a good look at my charismatic granddaughter, meeting her dog, re-connecting with my daughter.

Her husband and I are not close, we rarely communicate when I’m there. But he is a gracious and warm host.

He is a great husband and father to my daughter and granddaughter, that’s about all any father could really want. So another journey, perhaps bigger than I think.

I’m off to the train, which I love riding on. I can’t wait to absorb some of that New York energy. I can no longer live without nature and animals, so two days is about right. I am excited to be taking Emma and Robin to see the Frieda Kahlo exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum, I hope to bring something back to Maria, who I will miss a lot. I have my earphones and a good book – the memoir Small Fry by Steve Job’s daughter Lisa Brennan-Jobs.

It’s beautifully written. Soon I’ll be looking out the window at the beautiful Hudson River, chugging along on another journey.