All those tremendous, wonderful, untamed, delicious storms, and it seemed I'd missed the lot of them. But this happens, I tell myself as I turn on the fireplace in my room. For the first time in all the years I have traveled, I was hoping to get stomped by a storm, forced indoors by wind and rain and fury, made to sit by the fire and stare out through a picture window, sipping a lazy coffee. I clasp my hands and peer out the windows that only last week strained with the force of the wind upon them. Sure enough, a nearly full moon illuminates a quieting sea. I can see stars blinking awake as the clouds part further.