Pit Stops For The Heart
By: K Vonkrenner
Tags: Ford, Publishers, California, Solo Travel, Love

kvk2020

Who-hoo! Word is out, a vaccine is finally in. The irony of course is that the pandemic is hitting everywhere harder than it did in spring. Deaths in the USA are over 1250 per day. We are numb to it. People flock to do holiday shopping. The drug of distraction. Sometimes sharing is not caring, no matter how prettily we wrap it. But, we Will survive. Maybe, even become a better world. It’s a season of hope. A year of hard lessons.

On the brighter side, chatter about travel is back on the conversational table. Even as we envision great escapes, scammers are all bright-eyed at the possibility of side-gigs in fake travel vaccine docs and anything else that makes a buck and fucks people over. Capitalism, a cornucopia of amazing possibilities. Money and toilet paper stories.

As a pandemic traveler, I beat out against my own fears and gave myself to open roads, empty airports and short, snappy lines. I looked around and hoped this year has given the environment a brief break and chance to breath. She needed it. We all needed it.

Big Blue and I have taken a brief respite of our own. Five months solo on the road is an adventure that craves the odd “stop” to take in all in and reflect on what direction to take next. To review, life. What is it that makes it matter? Ancient thoughts. Thoughts that require a pit stop for both Big Blue and, me.

San Diego, California. Not a bad place to reflect on life. A city and people in a permanent love affair with the sea. From Coronado jets to the surfers of Pacific Beach, the ocean kisses the air with salt as the waves embrace the warm, sandy shores and rocks. It’s “chill”.

There is something eternal and elemental about the sea. A sharing place. Unknowingly, we crave it. We embrace it with body and soul. In our deepest sadness it offers the rebirth of hope and comfort. We feel it as the waves wrap themselves around our feet. As we sink into the sand, our toes curling and digging into our primordial past. I am reminded me of an old poem by John Masefield; “ Sea Fever”. “I must go down to the sea again..the lonely sea and sky..” The sea-shore. That magical place where earth meets the sea and they chase each other like children. They clash together and are unified. No matter our age, here, touched by this prehistoric dream, we are young again.

So, Big Blue and I have taken this pit stop in our travels. Time to do a mental and physcial “oil change” , briefly re-join a sedentary world before we have to roll on. Do some writing! Drag elusive thoughts to concrete elements. Novel concepts. All puns intended! Get back to that “ Book”. Throw out my net into the technological sea, baiting for an elusive publisher.

A little sparrow has joined me this morning to share my croissant. He cocks his head at me, unafraid of the clacking of my keyboard. They say birds are t messengers of the Gods. So many gods…How we decipher the message is always left to us. Gods are cryptic and vague. Keeps them amused and us guessing…

Where will Big Blue and I go next? Today, just to the sea.. Is it possible to still go forward while circling? Somedays, I feel as if my travels are taking me through my life. Revisiting places I have been as a child. Closure. If all the doors close, then the one that opens next should be amazing. It’s a matter of finding it or, accepting it.

Big Blue needs a good wash and a full tank of gas again. We are not done yet, though it feels close. She is ready, soon, to take us to the next stage of this pandemic journey. Sometimes, travel is about following your heart. Facing teh open road with no destination beyond, living. Believing in life, against all logic and obstacles. That driving into the sunset will bring a brighter sunrise. Somedays are hard and the night seems to last forever. But. I still believe…