The going back...

And at leaving Montana I feel this kind of saudade that you might get to feel when you leave long lifetime friends; like moving out of hometown, to a long distant destination.
And what could be better for that than a bus trip. Watching the hills slowly and monotonously go by through the window, almost like a loop film, always different, always the same. For sure it reminds me about life and its cyclical paths: long lifetime friends that I met less than a week ago, that I might meet again or not, that I might forget or treassure forever in my heart. And what does it matter, life will keep being cyclical, and hills will go down here, up there, trees will disappear in this turn, reappear in the next one... Maybe different trees, maybe same ones. And this single teardrop falls splattered with all of them: the long lifetime friends, the less than a week friends, and all the ones in between. All differents, all the same.