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The trip began as others have, with teary goodbyes and "see you soon"s. This exodus, if you will, isn't about changing location, it's about locating change. A change I know has to be made even if I don't know what it is nor where to look.
For me, that's where solitude and quiet come in to flatten the map so I can find my coordinates.
Of all the equipment I packed, I most closely relate to the compass. Intuition, instinct, timing, whatever you want to call it, serve as the internal compass. I feel when it's out of balance, when the declination hasn't been set, how true north doesn't quite line up.
To move, first you find your place on the map, you locate yourself.
So I packed up my self-contained system along with sentimental items, clothes, etc. No matter what comes next, I'll probably survive it. And my outlook is altered now, with the most important things coming into clear focus.
Knowing that the changes that located us have, well, put things in perspective.
We stayed in the moment, the pooch and I, enjoying breezy nights and warm days. If the critters were active, we ducked inside the tent. Hell, we even moved the tent when the brilliant tent pitcher (me!) placed it directly in afternoon sun.
In my defense, the sun was almost down when I put it up and I didn't consider where the sun would be in the morning. Like I said, I'll probably survive.
We drove ribbons of highway as we wound our way from one state to another, keeping our distance, preserving our anonymity, and maintaining our peace of mind. I nurtured hope while Abbie gazed out the window.
We're in North Carolina now, watching the trees change colors, reminding me of that change I'm trying to locate; that it happens when nature is aligned, and the needle finds north, and the compass points the way.
I have an inkling that once I know my own place on the map it will never matter where I came from or where I'm going, only that I will, I do, I am.
Stay tuned.
Enjoy the photos!
Stay tuned.
Enjoy the photos!
