Earlier this month, I returned to New York, this time for business instead of pleasure. Again my return flight was from LaGuardia, and again the weather turned threatening. I rebooked my evening flight to early afternoon, finished my meetings, and left the office, on my way to retrieve my luggage from the hotel. Out on the street, I was instantly soaked, victim of the same slush-and-freezing-rain threatening my flight. Pedestrianism the victim of inclement weather (my umbrella safely packed away in my suitcase), I caught a cab, grabbed my luggage, and was efficiently deposited out the airport terminal a short while later.

Every time I travel via airplane, I reflect on the the inevitable need to hurry-up-and-rush-then-wait. Rush to arrive at the airport on time. Rush to join the security line. Rush to get to the gate. Then wait in the queue for boarding pass and ID verification, then wait to walk through the x-ray machine, then wait for the gate agent to announce boarding. On this trip, I also endured additional opportunities to wait; wait for trucks to de-ice the plane, wait for the tower to clear the plane for departure, wait for the forecast to become one of mere light freezing rain. Three hours of waiting on the tarmac later, mine was the first flight to depart (with the bribe of bottled water and a light snack in exchange thanks from the pilot for passenger patience). It brought the debate over a passenger bill of rights, for me, to life.

Anyway, New York does the season up, with lights and decorations at the airport, throughout the streets, and adorning building exteriors across Manhattan (sorry other boroughs, but no time this visit). Atlanta, to a lesser extend, does the same, though lacking the cold and the bluster of northern states, fails to give it the same kind of breath of life.

Jingle bell rock, y’all.

Don’t worry, I’ll get the postcards in the mail.

Which is to say that I was and am, and thanks for asking.

In Wisconsin for another day or two, where the air has a slight chill and the leaves on the trees have begun to embrace the colors of fall.

An afternoon discussing “web 2.0″ and no mention of the SLA2006 Baltimore Wayfaring map, my thus-far favorite conference-related tool and a great use of the Wayfaring Map web application. (Second favorite conference related content - the conference blog.) More about Web 2.0 to come.

Now on the airplane, I survey the coats folded in laps, on the floor, and in overhead bins. Do these people know where they’re going? Do they know what they’re in for? My coat, an antique store find of alpaca that hangs past my knee, fits in the overhead compartment, hidden behind my carry-on.

The plane makes its approach, and as we descend from a sky of puffy white clouds, I am able to catch a glimpse past the passenger to my left and out the window. The roofs of houses, arranged in an orderly grid, make a patchwork of white squares and rectangles. Framing the houses are front yards and back yards, elaborating on the pattern of white, and I have a smile on my face. Snow, virtually unknown in Georgia, is everywhere.

Outside the airport terminal , the sun is thin. The sky is blue. The wind has teeth, biting the unsuspecting and making the most prepared shiver. I stand outside the airport, waiting for my ride, my coat wide open to the wind.

I’ve been home for Christmas for a week. Home in Madison, home with my parents, home in a wintery Wisconsin.

Tomorrow it’s back to the airport, back to Georgia and a chance of rain, back to temperatures well above 32°.

It’s good to go home.