I suppose this is the converse of Jack London’s “summit of life”, or Vergil’s singula amore.
sed fugit interea fugit inreparabile tempus
singula dum capti circumvectamur amore
But it flees the while, time flees irreparable,
While we are borne about, a lone love’s captives.
Vergil, Georgics (can’t remember book or line number)
LAD: (getting out of the shower, sighs audibly) AHH…
DAD: What’s the matter, lad?
LAD: I just…miss our family in Georgia.
Yup, that’s my seven-year-old.
Thanks, dear reader, should you ever find me, for being the gadfly of my discipline.