It's been one month. And what a month it's been.
Witnessing the Lucy of the sky with diamonds, laid bare, her small figure framed by glass and a million school children in tucked-in uniforms.
Taking a ride on Lake Tana and into the white Nile, almost tumbling into the open mouths of the family of hippos. Fortunately for us, hippos are vegetarian.
And so were the baboons atop the Semien mountains, who huddle in groups and dig for the sweet root of the grass, scurrying away with babies on their back, if we were too close (Interesting fact, baboon boys are carried on the front to better hide them from their fathers, who will try to kill them).
It was one of those trips that forms memories - when boys move with energy to ancient dances and grandfathers give punctuated efforts during the music of the coffee ceremony.
It's the sunset with eagles and the rock churches of the valleys.
When I think back, it's those dinners cloistered together when at least one person gets taken down by a spicy dish or some joke is made in our Little Miss Sunshine van and we all crack up that puts a smile to my face.
And I think of Lucy forever encased in her glass, like sleeping beauty.
And I wonder if she'd like to reach up, open the glass and just fly.