Monday, March 22, 2010

Nurturing a peripatetic nature

My favorite way to travel is to wander.  Deadlines, goals, lists of places I must see so I can tell other people I did  et al stress me.    Where after all do I really want to be?  If you’ve ever given this any thought at all, you know you want to be where you are, otherwise you would be somewhere else.  Yes it’s a mobius answer, but if you don’t like where you are, then you’d better start deciding where else you’d like to be, metaphysically speaking as well.    For me, the first day of spring is spent as a day by the Pacific masquerading as one spent on the Irish Coastline which makes me think the weather and the universe are conspiring to gently move me in the direction of the Emerald Coast.

Foggy Bay

Not overly crazy about green beer and surfers in kilts who confuse Ireland with it’s neighbor across the North Channel, we went to our not so local pub last night to  hear Trooper Thorn and belatedly honor St. Patrick over a few too many well poured pints.   I say this having no empirical data as to what really makes up a well poured pint if you’re drinking them in Dublin but the ones I had last night in Long Beach, CA as well as the corned beef  probably account for a lot of what I’m reading into the marine layer but I looked at it as atmospheric bones being thrown on to the blanket of the day.  

gallaghersTravel is as much a state of mind as it is an activity.   Would I prefer to have a pint of Guinness poured in a pub in Dublin? Probably.  Do I need to be in Ireland to enjoy some of the things that make me want to wander there?  No.   Not really.

 shamrocks 

 

   

 

“The great affair is to move.”  R.L. Stevenson.