Time and time again, I miss Cuba. Really miss it, with an ache, with a feeling that I should be there right now, among the raw beauty, the surprising quirks, and the magnificent people with such life and humor and hope. Some people would say “time stands still in Cuba”. It does not. It moves at a speed and in directions all it’s own. There’s no explaining that with logic or words. Nor even with photos. I was sleepless there, trying to pin down all the little moments, the tiny things that remind me, “you’re in a special special place in time…remember everything!”
Already…already…I wait to return.