The Urge for Going

You'd think a writer— a poet for Heaven's sake—would be an eager traveler, ever in search of new horizons.  She'd have an "essentials" bag packed at all times, right?  Sadly untrue.  This writer-poet tends to enjoy "Dancing on Mars" from home base.  Don't get me wrong.  I do like new places.  Once I get to a destination, nobody has more fun or, so I've been told, is more fun to be with —all modesty aside.  (Full disclosure: And nobody's more neurotic, but still fun.)

Here's the problem:  Generally, when the idea of a trip has come up, it's been presented when I'm either overwhelmed with a project or crises on the horizon, just turning out the light for a good night's rest, or feeling a bit wobbly from a diverticular adventure.  At such times the last thing I want to do is power up my calendar and start planning an event six months or a year from now.  Sorry, I can't dredge up the least bit of enthusiasm. 

 So, would-be traveling companions, please pitch your travel idea gently, as you would wake someone you love from a deep sleep, someone who needs caffeine and a little time to wander into an area of consciousness where critical thinking happens.  Key word:  Gently.  Ease me into the idea.  No jolting.  Don't ask me what dates next June are free (I keep as much white space as possible at all times), and please don't ask what my favorite destination might be when you're calling from the car revved up on a great idea, and I'm groaning in bed in the fetal position with my heating pad.  Just mention that you're having the thought; maybe we can talk about it soon.  You might suggest that I check out photos of this irresistible place you have in mind.  Sometime.  Google it sometime.  Key word:  "sometime."

I'm in the midst of all sorts of vicarious travel at this very minute.  No ticket, no dramamine required.

On this day my fairy goddaughter and her family are flying away for the summer.  She was packing four people for three months and two climates.  They will be headquartered most of the summer in Bermuda and visiting friends and family in France, Italy, England and Wales.  Can't wait for the photos and blog entries.

Today is the last day of a Grand Canyon vacation for my son and his family.  They're having a great time.  How I wish I could have clicked my heels like Dorothy and joined them for a day; sadly, I have yet to master that.  I'm working diligently on heel-clicking and the art of bi-location.  Until I become proficient in both, I'll look forward to hearing more about their experiences and seeing all the pictures.  It would have been beyond great to see the Bliss Bringer's face when she first saw the big hole in the ground at age seven!

 They visited Sedona, briefly, and liked it a lot; it's one of the few places I've always wanted to go.   Sedona might be their destination next year, I'm told– made them think of me.  It was the vibe, I suppose.  And they will invite me to go with them.  I hope the idea becomes reality—but I'm not ready to start planning just yet!   (My grandmother, Mammy, used to say "If you want your vacation to seem longer, invite your mother-in-law to go along.")   Catch me sometime when my feet are propped up and I'm glorying in a glass of wine; then we'll talk.

 Here are my precious peeps!

While I wait for wanderlust to surprise me, the view at home ain't too shabby.  The wildlife here is one word, not two.  The ocean's just down the road,  but I can see this, and more, from my bed!  No packing, no passport.   The lake is mesmerizing, transports me to new inner landscapes.

                                             Egret on the wing, heading for the dam

                                             Elder Great Blue Heron under the Magnolia

Happy travels, y'all!