That I wouldn’t want to talk about it for fear that experiences would limit themselves to memories, and move from 3D and real, to small, confined in words.
That Australian accents would sound foreign, especially the first time I heard one, and that I’d listen for indicators that the speaker was faking it.
That my city, my view, the streets and trees and mountains I have seen every day for the last few years, would seem foreign, different suddenly.
That I’d appreciate their beauty properly for the first time, as an outsider would.
That I’d cry for a day and then readjust as if nothing had happened.
That I’d learn housekeeping tips from people I stayed with, and that I’d come home and want to apply them.
That I’m happier not doing things the old way any more, and that I’d rather change everything round than go back to old habits and patterns.
That I’d wished there’d been someone following me around taking more photos. I took a couple of hundred, and I want more.
Arnold is right…I’ll be back.