Every turn on a new road symbolizes so perfectly this traveling life. Some bring gorgeous mountain outcrops hanging over canyon rivers with brilliant foliage pouring over the cliffsides. Others bring endless suburb strip mall nations that leave your clutch burned up and your eyes sick with the same. And then there’s Kansas, no turning involved. Sometimes you take a turn to quickly and skid off of the road, gripping desperation around the wheel hoping it isn’t the end. Make or brake, every single time.
There is an exhilaration to constant change, and the fact that it exists at will any time the world grows a little stagnant is a piece of magic in and of itself. For those of us lucky and willing enough to make wherever our home, we begin to rely on the new, to succumb almost addiction-like to needing to keep the starting over started up. I can’t tell if that’s a bad thing, because it does at times feel like an addiction, and life, nature and society has taught me that addictions typically leave you sweating cold and shaky coughing over long airplane rides.