My dogs know what it means when the suitcases come out, and they whine and slouch around the door. I am going again, and they can't stop me, and yet I must wait a bit. Every traveler knows the feeling, just before leaving home (again) for a big outing in the world. The accelerating rush of preparation mixed with work tasks, the must-do-before-I'm-gone list, the gradual shift in perspective from " I can get it all done before I go", to "I can get all the vital stuff done", to "ah, this stuff will be here when I come back". The excitement of the coming trip, mixed with leave taking and a suddenly enhanced appreciation of family, home and the beauty of the every day. But, Joe gotta go.
Now I am on the brink again, bound for Reno, and a long ski trip into the Range of Light, Sierra Nevada backcountry. The high elevation lake basins there are among the most scenic and pleasing locations on this planet, and I have not been among them for way too long. My window to see them ever again is closing, as my knees are going. This trip is also a reunion with my running mates, old geology grad school and hard-core kayak trip buddies. Winter camping and randonee ski gear to climb and descend long empty basins are part of the program. It seems like a lot of work to get solitude and some inner calm, but If You Don't Go, You'll Never Know.
Only the traveler feels the keenness of joy at a return to home, and only the traveler finds new family and second homes everywhere they go. SO, go we must, and may we return to be embraced and healed and rested and launched again.
Comments