Today was the last calendar day of summer in Australia. The morning air is thinner and the evenings greet with a bittersweet breeze. The heavy afternoons are falling behind and the harsh transition of light will soon begin, making the laundry out on the line look faded and crisp. Perhaps some leaves will drop, but I am unsure. My native Texan blood expects nothing but sudden dry air and brown leaves on the ground overnight. In just this day, I can tell the end of my stay here will be a dash more than enjoyable.
There are a lot of subtle things I miss about home, but even more hints that I’ll miss from Brisbane upon my return. My heart belongs to the ocean and the coastlines of the world, never promised to stay here or there. My soul belongs to the salty breeze and the sea foam rolling across the sand. Wherever I go, I’ll long for the undertow of the ocean and raw fingertips. The farther inland I go I lose my sense of belonging. I suppose that is what I’ll miss the most no matter where I end up.
Travelling strips you down and it stings. It robs you of your identity, steals your dignity, and runs with it all in a burlap sack. She slaps you with a wet hand and kisses you with the sweetest lips. Your world turns upside down but you manage to live a life parallel to what you were so used to. It makes you feel disgusting and unsure, miserable and excited. Everything you love you love more and happiness comes easier than it used to. You travel because you want something different, because you’re looking for something you think you need, because you’re scared that you won’t be scared- and then you’re right and you go home. I’d like to think I figured it out but I’m not even close. The only thing I was sure of is that I wasn’t scared and that’s about all I’ve ever gotten right.
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