Winter blues

It's that time again in Kiel, the dark creeps in at four thirty, the days aren't really light and it drizzles all day without stopping. It's enough to make me want to leave. Which is convenient, since I am.
It's quite amazing really, I've been here for two years, met different people, taught numerous students, travelled around (not enough of course), sprained my ankle twice, lived in three houses and now I'm heading off home. Incredible how much you can experience in a small town on the Baltic Sea.
The reaction among my students has been shock and disbelief, and I've been asked what it would take to make me stay. If I knew the answer to that question I'd be sitting on a mountain somewhere, dolling out wisdom. But I don't say that, I say that it's time to reconnect, it's time to be in Australia and see my people. Maybe that's the real answer after all.
I will miss lots of things, the transient lifestyle of living with other people's furniture and cookware, the excitement of fulfilling the most mundane task (I rang the real estate agent!), the fresh bread available everywhere, the changing of the seasons from winter iciness to spring flowers to lazy summer to the colours of autumn. I'll miss speaking another language, learning new words and expressions, discussing cultural differences endlessly. I`ll miss dressing up. I`ll miss riding my bike to work, and everywhere else. I`ll miss the cheese and the beer.
But this is life after all, changing, moving on. The Sydney I go back to is not the town I left, and neither will Kiel be the same if I ever come back for a visit. Nothing stays the same, everything changes. Not even the most powerful people on the planet can change that.