The Woman took this photo. We're at Kotoka International Airport, having just landed in Accra, and it's the first time I've seen The Musician since May. It's the longest we've been apart since she was born.

I'm reflecting on this photo, and on this site. This is the third time I've blogged a trip, and two of those trips have been to Africa. Is this because I have (pace Jane Goodall) Africa in my blood? No - although Africa is beautiful and its inhabitants are very welcoming. It's because I'm the father of four adult children. One by one, they are making their way into the world, and where they go, I (if they let me) will follow. I went to Kenya to experience a safari, but mostly to spend great stretches of uninterrupted time with The Doctor. I went to Ghana to see The Musician. And since this trip to Ghana, I drove halfway across Canada with The Writer, to help her start the next stage of her life in Moose Jaw. (I haven't had this type of adventure with The Wanderer yet, but I'm sure I will.)

The pleasures of flâneurisme - being "the solitary walker", being able "to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world" - are great. But the joys of fatherhood - having children that you not only love, but also respect and admire, children who remain a part of your life and who let you remain a part of theirs - are greater still.