Worlds Away

what the nomad brought home

Escape!

It’s summertime, and I’m feeling that familiar wanderlust. I put a list here about travel memories.  Feel free to add your own ideas!  I’m thinking of….

emerald mountains
train rides
stepping out your door into the Renaissance
houses of every color
vibrant gardens defiantly bursting out of their wrought-iron confines
sipping drinks with friends at a mellow cafe in Quito’s nightlife district
the simple pleasure of buying chocho salad
the Tuscan countryside
watching newborn llamas get introduced to their neighbors for the first time
cobblestone streets navigated by horse-drawn carriages
the future whispering through scattered coca leaves
knowing exactly where to go when you want steak, eggs, and rice at 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning
watching from your post atop a bell tower as the dawn breaks over a stately, old city
ice-covered volcanoes on the horizon
being serenaded on Lake Titicaca under a sapphire sky
Christmas displays at St. Peter’s
waterfalls
waterfalls that are frozen
being able to browse through a shopping mall and people-watch while listening to the waves crash below you and feeling the ocean’s breeze warm your face
the sweet taste of the forbidden herbal mate, and its calming, medicinal smell
the sound of a language you don’t know
realizing that you could go anywhere in the country for $10
Florentine markets at night time
the crisp breeze blowing in from a historic harbor
the sound of panpipes driven by the beat of animal-skin drums
the excitement of finding yourself right next to a set of enormous chimes as they herald the birth of a new hour — on the arm of someone you love
cappucino and cannoli
a fresh, warm little yuca bun
knowing that you can find anything that you possibly could need right there on the street
the quaint sophistication of European cafes
the beautiful sight of the glowing Milky Way as it stretches itself over the glassy waters of an enormous, inland sea
ice cream in another country (It’s never the same!)
the exhilarating pain when you submerge yourself in a frigid mountain stream, immediately after a dip in a volcanic hot spring
sitting on a bench somewhere and contemplating all the history that has taken place around you
the fragrance of roses on the air
enjoying fried pork and beer in a cozy shop, while the flies tirelessly pursue one another in circles around the center of the room
and, most amazing of all, being able to share any of those things with someone special.

…..I suppose you’ve figured out by now that I’m feeling the urge to travel. Feel free to add your own haven to the list!

July 26, 2007 Posted by | Memories, Nostalgia, Travel, Wanderlust | 6 Comments

To the rooftops!…

Time.
Every sinking sun heralds another day that I will never know
And yet that I’ve already lived.
Like a farcical princess in a real dungeon—
A refugee
Of the all-consuming, merciless beast terrorizing the sacred hillsides below—
I watch from my window
As the bleeding sky before my eyes
Fades somewhere else into a festive night
Of friends, of music, of spontaneity, of life.
And while the spirits of ignorance dance, and whirl and meld,
And crescendo into the colorful laughter of abandon,
My own voice, my own form are absent,
While I watch and ponder the fate
Of the beaten, the violated, the penniless –
Because, tonight, their dusk, their chill is mine.
And we are all together.
And we are all alone.
And we are all forgotten.
And I learn all too late that the height of a cloudless summer
Is a time I would infinitely rather spend in the damp cover of the glistening snow,
And that yet another night delivered on the icy tails of the autumn wind,
Leads at this very moment into a joyous spring that I will never regain
And binds me, helpless, to the certainty that these
Are hours I will never recover.
So now that I—
My dreams, my soul, my hopes, my passions—
Have become, for myself, simply too much,
The fear twists deep within me that I’m still so very far from enough
And that perhaps it’s too late to prove
That I ever might be.

 

 “Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide — voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time.  The night is my companion and solitude, my guide.  Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?”  — Sarah McLachlan (Opening lyrics of “Possession”)

July 26, 2007 Posted by | Memories, Poetry, Solitude, Time, Writing | , , , , | Leave a comment