Over the course of the last day or so I have entirely lost track of time zones and along with them the hour of day or night that my body clock expects it to be. But as the Air Canada 767 glides across the sky over South Dakota I am aware that it is just past ten in the morning in San Francisco. The sun will be shining on the Bay when we touch down in a few hours, and these last three months in East Africa will begin the natural process of fading into the territory of memory.

I intend to do all that I can to keep the many experiences, lessons and insights from the journey active and alive in my mind, and am returning home with a list of writing projects that will help to keep things sharp through the lens of reflection. Here and now though, hurtling through north American skies with the dust of Nairobi streets still in my clothes and the sights, sounds and smells of the lands I have traveled still very much present in my mind’s eye, I would like to express gratitude for the many hands and hearts who have held me so well in the time since I left home.

It’s hard to fathom the richness of these months; how full they have been with good and beautiful living. From building with earth alongside Masai mamas to encountering up close the charismatic creatures of the African savannah. From being rocked to sleep by the Indian Ocean on the deck of the beautiful Musafir to wandering bustling beachside fishmarkets as the dawn catch is hauled in. From hiking the highland coffee farms of Mount Elgon where the first seeds of a Ugandan permaculture movement are being sown to soaking in the chorus of the call to prayer from the rooftops of old town Mombasa. I have deepened existing friendships everywhere I have gone and sparked new ones with Kenyan tuk-tuk drivers, Swedish maternity nurses, Ugandan coffee farmers, American giraffe researchers and human-geographers, Italian and French nomads-turned-shipwrights, Canadian motorcycle pilgrims, Kenyan-American pilot-parents, and Masai night-watchmen. I am full of gratitude for these many sweet and fortuitous connections.

And also for all my dear friends who held me in their homes like a member of their own families. For Mama Fargo and dear Rose and Juliette, for Joseph, Johnsam, Ignatious, Julius and the mamas who made my extended time at Laikipia Permaculture Centre feel like home. For the verdant homebase provided at Food Water Shelter in Arusha to the brother’s welcome provided by Paolo, Louie and Mbarak aboard the Musafir. For my sweet friends Elin and Sam and Senna…adventures in Ethiopia and the Bay await us! For the incredible welcome of George and Juliette in Mbale, Robert and Slavia on the slopes of Mount Elgon, and the inspiring staff of CAFWA in Gulu. And of course to my dear family-away-from-family, Jo and Siana Stutchbury.

So much thanks also to the excellent travelling companions who helped make this journey the rich tapestry it has been…to the delightful and ever-adventurous Lindsay Allen and Andrew Sifuri, to my friends and teachers Sasha Rabin and Warren Brush, to the lion-hearted Jesse Smith, to twinkly-eyed and brown-bearded Casparo, and to the irrepressibly positive and heartfelt Gidudu Sam.

And as the plane drifts over the Rocky Mountains and banks south of the Great Salt Lake towards the Pacific Ocean, my thanks go to the beautiful lands themselves that have kept me nourished, in good health, and in constant amazement over these months. Thanks to the open vistas and craggy ridges of Laikipia and the swaying acacias and ambling creatures of Swara Plains. Thanks to the rich volcanic soils of Arusha at the foot of Mount Meru and the tidelands and precious mangrove forests hugging the coastline from Pangani up to the emerald waters of Kilifi Creek. Thanks to the wild grasslands of the Serengeti and the mountains and plains of beautiful eastern and northern Uganda.

And last but certainly not least, thanks to the many unseen loved ones whose support and care back home made my adventures possible. Thanks to my beautiful family whose love I can always feel no matter what far flung corner of the world I have found myself in. Thanks to Michael for his critical logistical support and occasional Warriors updates. And thanks to Glen, John, Kate and Mariah for allowing me to know that whenever I found my way back to the Bay I would have a sweet a sweet place waiting for me to call home.

And thanks to everyone I forgot and to all those whose grace and assistance I never even saw but nevertheless provided for my well-being.