I travel a little for work and a lot for pleasure. I set out on my own, my journeys bringing me to rainy Edinburgh streets, to the salty French seaside, and to my childhood home in Iowa. Each trip enriches me. I fill my soul with modern art, befriend fellow train passengers, and soak in the places that become part of me.
My homecomings are also sweet. The thrill of travel heightens my appreciation of Central Kentucky—the place I’ve made my home for the last decade. As I readjust to small town life, post-dinner walks help me sort through all I have gleaned in my travels. The evening light, the tangle of wildflowers, and the mid-summer stillness clear space in my crowded mind. The intensity of travel diminishes. Recent memories settle in me. With successive walks, my inner landscape begins to mirror this expanse. New thoughts emerge, informed by comings and goings.
ge chopsticks for months… two sets lovingly displayed in narrow, silken boxes. I figured the local antique shop wouldn’t sell them right away, so I hemmed and hawed. They definitely weren’t ivory—maybe resin? The floral cloisonné was dainty and delicate. I liked the weight of them in my hands. I slid them back in their case.