You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘travel’ tag.

You might read that opening title and think, ‘is this person a dare devil or an adrenaline junkie?”

I am neither.

What is this about then? Other people who stare death in the face without realizing it.  The idea came from while I was driving to Jackson, TN for a weekend intensive conference (which is still ongoing, by the way), I watched as car after car after SUV after truck after eighteen wheelers (really!?) perform near miss as they weaved in and out of traffic. 

Let me tell you, the speed limit is 70 mph going along I-40 once you reach Madison County and I was going 80 (which wasn’t fast enough, apparently).  I’m driving and it just seemed like someone let loose some kind of toxic fog, because one minute I’m driving with the flow of traffic and suddenly people are on a mad spree barely missing other vehicles as they attempt to reach mach one in speed.

The scariest moment for me was when I was 15 miles outside of Jackson.  This black Mazda was speeding along pass me.  He barely (and I do mean barely) had room to merge to the Left lane without clipping the front of his vehicle and possibly ending in a disastrous out of control spiral.  

I’m thinking, this guy isn’t that crazy. He was. He sped up and cut in front of me, leaving one inch between himself and the back end of an eighteen wheeler. My heart dropped as I saw this. I couldn’t help think that if he had sped up a little too much he would have hit the eighteen wheeler and either swung into a ravine on his right, or into my car to his left possibly resulting in a pile up and a spot light on the 5′ o clock news.

Thankfully, none of the two happened.

So I suppose in a sense, I (consciously) stared death in the face, while they just kind of missed it as they swung passed his welcoming arms.

                    Image

While I was exploring the coastal beaches of Florida, I happened upon this embark in Clearwater.  I often visit different cities and habitats for inspiration in my writing or to grasp a setting a little better than relying on pure imagination. 

The wind was cool and the skies were gray. The people were scattered across the coast like Camden flowers. This little area was completely vacant, filled with a quiet solitude accompany by the anxious waves crashing against the bank. 

I inhaled; the salt air filled my lunges, sprinkles of water floating in the air softly caressed my skin. I was in a heaven that no one but myself could accessed.  It was mine and mine alone.

I was without sound or movement for about five minutes. That short time was the most therapeutic, most relaxing, and dare I say alluring span of time in my life.

Earlier this spring, I was coming home from a long week of exploring in Baltimore. In the midst of driving a terrible storm arose. I began to slow my car and adjust the thermostate in my car.

A few seconds passed and then window cleared and moments later the storm passed on. What greeted me next was a fog so thick…you could see barely a foot in front of you.

I kept driving while others pulled into a nearby rest stop. It felt like the fog would continue forever. Yet, the cloud began to part and beams of light flooded the road.

Oh you who has brought me the sun
Your beams of light make me gleam
As I brace the wind and run
With heavens’s light along the stream
Oh you who has given me hope
Let nothing drive us apart
Through the night my soul copes
As your rays help me soar