Summer Vacation

The urge to travel rises when least expected, without reason or warning. Unsettled, is how I describe my feelings as it develops, like an autumn storm beginning with clouds. The day arrives and I leave the homestead, disrupting my structured life. Normal routines give way to silence and simplicity in a campsite, among trees in a distant place. Some days I observe small things from my old folding chair, not moving between breakfast and lunch. Other mornings might require a sweaty hike in any direction, allowing feet to share what eyes enjoy. But the highlight of the journey, the apex of plans and expense is sleep. Campfabulous sleep. Entering sleep like a falling leaf and waking in uninterrupted stages, like the smell of brewing coffee, changes everything. It takes three days for the numbness of city life to fade and submit to nature’s exhilaration. Increasing energy and desire encourages me to follow more trails, leaving footprints where few have been. When departing day arrives time slows and I face a chasm, looking back at a life I’d almost forgotten. Each mile of the return journey is another stain on the fabric of what I most desire.