The roads we take …

Paula Light has suggested we post one thing we love every day during the month of February. I love the idea of this and it generates all kinds of good feelings in me.

I recently went through a ruthless culling process in my garage. One of the hardest decisions I had to make was to discard this old suitcase, one I have had since 1978. It has no wheels. How on earth did I lug it around airports is a mystery.

One of my enduring loves has been travel. I yearned to travel from a very young age, and have done so, and awoke to childhood dreams. The excitement remains to this day for me.

I no longer travel overseas, not because of the pandemic, but because I am discovering my own backyard. There’s value in this. I’ve learned to look closer to home, because that’s where my heart is happiest.

May all roads lead you to where you call home.

Until next time

As always

a dawnbird

‘I’m like a bird …’

Frequent travel is not for everyone.  I know this for a fact in my profession.  Colleagues would much prefer to sit in an office and see a stream of 6-7 people a day, like some friends I had lunch with recently.  One jokingly asked if I’m running from something.  Fair call.  I recall watching a show about a business woman who was a victim of trauma and later became very successful.  She gave motivational lectures everywhere.  Although married, she liked the transient lifestyle.  She had a reason to stay detached.  I seem to do the same.  I have acquaintances where ever I work.  I meet folks for dinner here and there.  When I want my own space, I have it, no questions asked or answered.

Why does a vagrant lifestyle suit me?  If I were to examine it more closely I would say, it is because I love to travel and I love the work I do with people.  It is as simple as that. It satisfies me on a spiritual level.

Then there’s the personal aspect to it.  I love the freedom my lifestyle gives me.  I don’t answer to anyone.  I make my own plans for holidays when I want to.  I don’t have to consider whether it suits someone else’s schedule or not.  I spend my money the way I want to.  Is this selfish?  Or self-preservation?  I really don’t know but what I do know is, although I have a home, I love being ‘homeless’ for most days of the month.  If I had someone in my life, I’d sell everything, buy a caravan and travel, camping under the stars instead of living in hotels.  That’s the only yearning I have.  Perhaps, this will eventuate some day.  Until then, Nellie Furtado’s song, “I’m like a bird …” loops in my head.

You don’t see too many homeless people in rural areas as one does in the city.  There is one man in particular I’m always curious about.  I love his spirit.  Everyone knows him in town and yet no one seems to know everything about him.  Being a visitor, I’ve gleaned information from here and there.  I’ve given him a life story, one I have no idea if true or not.  It soothes my romantic heart.  I don’t see him being selfish.  From what I gather, in a farming town, where everyone knows everyone else, he lives the way he does by choice.  I’ve seen him in a grocery shop.  Never too greedy, he only gets what he needs.  He is also generous, whatever little he has, I’ve seen him share with birds.

I’ve written about him in another post. I hope you are as curious about him as I am.

I fly out next week and the cycle starts.  I have a daunting schedule of travel in February.  Be still, my restless heart!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird


Luxe, I think not!

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is Posh, meaning high end.  Interesting to note the word comes from Romani language, too.  I didn’t know this before!  It makes my post today more meaningful to me.

A few months ago I had an unexpected wake up call regarding my health.  It made me reassess my life and priorities.  I realised we work towards a future, forgetting about ‘the now’.  As I waited for my results (by the way were all clear), I did not want to share my concerns with my colleague, so I enjoyed the trip as if it was my last one.  It made me savour every moment.  I travelled light.

As it turned out over dinner we talked about books and she recommended Paul Kalanithi’s ‘When Breath Became Air’.  I found the book in the airport bookshop on the following trip and started to read it during the flight.  As I turned the pages, the fragility of life as I know it, felt palpable in my hands.  I promised myself the words, “….some day …” would not be part of my vocabulary unless I made active plans for that day to eventuate.  I came back from my trip and booked a short trip to the Coral Coast.

I fly over the Coral Coast in Western Australia, look down on the stunning seascape and yearn to visit, “some day” and most of all, the tiny airport in Shark Bay is where I wanted to disembark.  Now I’ve heard others who choose to fly Etihad and gush about the luxury of Dubai Airport.  Not me.  I wanted to experience disembarking at Shark Bay airport.thumb_IMG_3694_1024.jpgThere is just a cyclone fence that separates the tarmac from the airport.  I’ve been on flights where the co-pilot stepped out and helped unload the luggage.  Everyone here is, “mate”.  Give me this over luxury any day!thumb_IMG_3743_1024.jpgThis is the arrival lounge.  It is quite possible there was a water bottle dispenser nearby, and some toilets, but that was it.thumb_IMG_3744_1024.jpgArrival/Departure lounge. That’s it!

To say this is a tin shed is adding glamour to the structure.  Posh, it is not! But, I wouldn’t want to see this changed for the world.  I love this airport!

At the airport I met another passenger who was travelling to the same hotel as me so we started chatting as we waited for the car to pick us up.  She was from New Mexico and doing a quick tour of Western Australia.  I was impressed with her ingenuity of researching the areas she wanted to visit.  She had avoided the big tourist icons in Sydney and Melbourne to visit the lesser known in the other side of the world. I, on the other hand, had heard about Shell Beach and the dolphins at Monkey Mia but never found the time to visit.  To be in the same place at the same time was a logistically challenging exercise for both of us.  But, we, two gypsies at heart, found ourselves here and determined to enjoy the experience.  Unfortunately the high winds forced the cancellation of her dive tour, and as I had hired a car, we shared the cost and did some sightseeing together.

I left Shark Bay after a brief break feeling I had been on a month’s holiday.  It is a 8-10 hour drive from my home in the city.  Next time I’m determined to drive up here.  My schedule will just have to accommodate that “some day”.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird