Trying to get back into the non-swing of things

As I drove home from an obligatory home party last night (you know-- the party where bored women get together eat,drink,and select items from a catalogue they may or may not have any need of) It occurred to me that was seeing real DARK for the first time in a week or so--ditto for stars and constellations. The only music I could hear was being emitted from the tinny and terrible radio (that is RADIO--not STEREO) of the Audi and not from a street musician, bar,or marching band. There were no people anywhere near me...
  It amazes me that I can slip into NOLA energy like warm butter on toast but coming back 'home' leaves me feeling absolutely catty-wompus--neither here nor there....
  As I continued my drive back to my house I came into the small town that I currently live in (and cannot wait to leave). East Jordan is a sullen and gray reminder of what a small Northern Michigan town becomes when it turns in on itself, shuns resort trade,and depends entirely on dieing iron and steel manufacturing. It is clannish and tends to mean spirited--the perpetual Victim amidst the more prosperous towns that welcomed and catered to Resorters--Boyne City, Charlevoix,Petoskey,Harbor Springs... But I digress.....
   I maneuvered the car past a former gas station now pizza parlor/medical marijuana clinic (no kidding--it does all of that) that is closed up tight, over the small bridge spanning the South Arm of Lake Charlevoix to the Jordan River--the only lights being from the Iron Works foundry hunched like a black troll on the banks of the water and the steeple of a church further in land. No people. No animals. No sounds. No Music. At 9pm. It seems completely surreal to me and even more so that this very surrealness (is that a word?) will itself become surreal in a week or so when I settle back in. For now though I have a foot in two different worlds...
   This is not to say that I don't like this area--I really do, though not this particular town. Northern Michigan is my haven,my heaven, my soul's delight in the summer and fall. It is spectacular and energized. It is natural beauty, stunning houses, and delightful events in picteresque small-town parks. Think Norman Rockwell and you'll totally have the visual!
  Winter? ugh. I live for my yearly week in NOLA-- warm (er), vital, artsy, and colorful. There is a texture to the energy of the French Quarter that I cannot capture in words, with a paint brush, or through a camera lense but I can feel it as sure as day. ...
  My week being over I am now back home and trying to readjust to the quiet and the rural nature of the area. It might take me another day or two but I'll slip back into it--and Summer with all of Her stunning colors, smells, and sunshine is only a few months away now.