I’m home. Writing this at the dining room table. Mrs. Cohn Zohn is asleep, doesn’t even know I’m back. I walked in the door at midnight. I had a 14-hour travel day, give or take. But I’m home. Home. Home. Home. My bed. My fridge. The morning paper. The great Bay Area air. And the light. Memo to self: Never forget how soft and glowing the Bay Area light is. Sweet dreams.