I have been gone far too long from my home. I am returning, although I am but a shadow racing through the woods. Soon, perhaps, I'll take form and shape, dodging the mischief of Coyote and of myself, to write anew, and perhaps remember how to code.

The solidity of the longhouse: which, after all is the people it houses, as the actual physical buildings need to be reconstructed every few years. The meetings, the trust, the knowledge of family.

I return. Not all at once. I miss this place of pixel and soul.