getting ready

"Do you want to try this mango smoothie?"
He breaks my concentration on reading. I look up and he has a tray full of small shot glass sized cups filled with samples of mango smoothie.
I sit up, let my bare feet touch the hot wooden planks of the porch, and I take one. I sip it. Cool, refreshing, and a happily invited treat in the blazing hot sun.
I look up and it's the Mediterranean Sea before me. Stretched out for miles and miles. Across the terrain and box shaped cream colored houses of Israel, you see it sparkle.
This cafe, it's a cafe that wasn't here when I used to live here myself but has since become a frequent favorite. I make a solitary trip here at least once during my visits. They are best known to me, at least, for their fresh almond croissants and their steaming hot lattes.
Something about this place, sitting on the porch, drinking coffee, watching people, reading, thinking - something about all that makes me ready for the real purpose of my trip. It's my welcome. It adjusts my mind and softens my soul from the experiences leading up to this moment. The experiences that took place outside of this safe and protective bubble. It's here that I get myself ready...