Wanderlust is what they call it; an insatiable desire to see, hear, smell, and taste more.

More diversity, more picturesqueity, more depth, more generosity…

More “culture.”

I could pick up and go at the drop of a hat. Or better yet, don a Panama hat.

The getting there is as much the arrival as the destination is the journey:

Airports, airplanes, books, mags, music. Sitting, thinking, staring, moving. A time deadline; it’s strict but not in a demanding way, just the sort of help you need to move you along from the aforementioned pleasures.

It’s hard to choose a favorite. Natural beauty is the most compelling to my soul. Fresh ocean air cannot be matched. Sand in my toes, salt in the air, a humid breeze wafts my hair. That is perfection. But the alternative is not so bad – the drama and rush and boxiness of a city has its own flair.

I love to go, it’s hard to stay. But all the time of rest in-between makes those few days much more deep, more meaningful! And thankful.

2 thoughts on “Travel

  1. Emily S says:

    I love traveling. I saw a post somewhere recently where a girl explained her anxieties and questioned why anyone would love the travel part, especially concerning the plane/airport part. The excitement and taking each steps is probably exactly what’s so fun about that!


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