Wanderlust and Trust

Getting out of my comfort zone was one of the best decisions I could have ever made.  I was blessed with a sense of independence and confidence that allowed me to venture across the country all on my own accord and schedule.  The mental struggles that coincide with this sort of decision can be daunting, though.  Questioning my ability to financially sustain myself, fearing the unknown of any number of scary situations (being kidnapped, stuck on the side of the road or sex trafficking to name a few that seem outlandish, but are a reality in our world) and the overall health of my family during the time that I will be gone away from them are just a few monsters that I have to mentally feed when deciding on my next venture.  

I am constantly reminding myself not to live in a hypothetical world.  If I allowed these fears to overcome my true wishes, I would never leave my house.  Thankfully, after a bit of solo traveling and plenty of soul searching, I have come to realize that I simply cannot control every tiny aspect of my presence.  Instead of harping over the infinite possibilities for harm or sadness in my life, I try very hard to think positively and choose excitement over fear.  I look forward to the inevitable unexpected beauty or generous stranger that I may encounter.  

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: people are much nicer than you'd expect.  Especially when you're traveling.  I have experienced "southern" hospitality all over the United States.  And when I didn't have a nice stranger to talk to, I thoroughly enjoyed the time alone at an airport or bus terminal.  A crossword is my favorite companion on long trips and I've made many a friend in an adjacent seat to help me with them, too.

To anyone who also struggles with those monsters in their minds, remember the times you heard a bump in the night or a scratch on the window that turned out to be nothing more than a creak or a tiny, nonthreatening branch.  Remember that if you do not take chances, you have no excuse to worry.  If you do take them, though, you will realize that most of those worries are simply figments of your own very creative, fascinating imagination.

5 Best, Top 10, ONLY Nonsense

Hello, again, blogosphere!  I haven't been here in quite some time and I'm feeling the need to get back on this blogging train.  After a long summer working in Alaska and working through some family issues, I have been resting and relaxing at my sister's home.  She and I have a tendency to get into deep conversations involving society, politics and life in general.  I have also had ample time to scroll through Pinterest and Google+, which brings me to the topic I am feeling most passionate about lately.

As a writer pursuing a career in journalism, I find myself ignoring job applications for writers who report on search engine focused articles.  I am bombarded with articles like '10 Best Yoga Poses' and 'Top 10 Restaurants in New York' and (my personal favorite) 'Best Camping Hacks for Women'.  One article about the "best" healthy food choices will send you on a website scavenger hunt for articles that declare the exact same thing, but boasting different, increasingly alluring headlines.  And don't get me started on the "for women" articles, because unless you're telling me how to insert a diva cup, your content is probably relevant to people.  Everything is click bait.  I refuse to write these types of pieces because, quite honestly, I am no expert on your favorite Korean BBQ or what exercises work for your body.  Calling this type of writing "journalism" makes me cringe.  Every journalism course I have ever taken pounded the idea into my head that our craft stood for unbiased reporting and opinion pieces were an entirely different animal.  Thus, if I have an opinion, it is posted here, on my blog.

We live in a world permeated with the Internet.  The amount of times that I have seen that one thing or another is the "best" makes me wonder, whose best?  I would rather see "So-and-so's Favorite Coffee Shop" than be subjected to the opinion that there is a single best coffee shop in the world.

So, I challenge you, the Internet prowler, to stop buying in to the rating system that our online world insists is universal.  Spend your time on something meaningful to yourself, rather than the random freelance writer's opinion of your favorite things.  There really is no best quote or top salon.  As individuals, we all have opinions of our very own.  We have unique tastes and distinct likes and dislikes, and no Internet list is going to change that.  Go out into the world and discover your very own favorite hiking trail or Sunday brunch spot.  Take some time to remember that you were born with the ability to freely choose, so close those tabs, shut your laptop and go curate your own list of bests and favorites.

Two Week Notice

In two weeks I will be making headway on what I refer to in my head as 'another great adventure'.  When I was younger, two weeks seemed an infinite amount of time.  Even in college, a due date two weeks away felt delightfully far from the here and now.  Time, though, has become like a lazy river streaming across my life and as the rocks of my years erode, clock hands move like sudden, thrashing rapids.  Two weeks will surge forward now, swirling me uncontrollably to that moment that I am gushing over a waterfall, lurching my gut into my throat.  Sure, it's invigorating to look forward to the thrill of the fall, but it comes as a bittersweet departure.

Sometimes I go to very dark places in my mind.  I think of terrible things that could happen when I am away from the people I love.  This is a product of my life experience and acknowledging this within my deep sea of emotions allows me to fish out the optimist swimming below these dreadful scenarios.  Although I may not be physically close with everyone that I cherish, they never leave me.  Everyone who has loved, encouraged, laughed and cried with me has left a mark on who I have become.  I carry them with me in each step I take toward defining my place in this world.  There is a story or sweet memory for every mile that separates me from the people who have helped mold me.  I feel touched and humbled to have so many influences in my life.  While I am saddened to be apart from these creators, I am excited to meet new artists that will certainly have a hand in changing me, once again.  The more hands I let shape my being, the more beauty I recognize from within.

***

This upcoming adventure has me headed back to Skagway.  Check out the full story of my first endeavor into wanderlust over at wandering.tv!

Anticipation

You know those places that you've dreamed about going to see?  Those places that you've seen pictures of so many times that it feels almost as if you have seen it before. There are so many places in the world that I want to visit, each paired with a vague picture in my mind of what to expect.  That faint unawareness is what motivates me to seek out these places.  You can look at all the pictures, do all the research, try to predict the weather and pretend to be prepared to experience a place you've never been, but you can't foresee what exactly will happen.  For this reason, when it comes to exploring, I tend to neglect to make any plans I can feasibly avoid before I get to a new destination.

Traveling has helped me accept the utter unpredictability of life.  This is the primary reason I love it so much.  I have always been someone who imagines the future and more often than not, life hands me something completely different than what I had contrived in my mind.  It becomes nearly impossible to set any expectations.  I never know who I will sit next to on the plane or meet along the way.  The roads will be unfamiliar and the weather, unpredictable.  Learning to be flexible and welcoming the fact that I may not know what's next is one of the many lessons, as well as greatest freedom, that traveling has taught me.

Earlier this month, I spent days planning a road trip across the country.  I was going to drive to the Grand Canyon.  Then the winter storms blasted the southern United States, and my lack of confidence driving in icy conditions held me back a few days.  Within those few days, I had my car looked at and realized a few things needed fixing before any long journey could happen.  So, despite the hours I had spent planning this adventure (the lists of campgrounds, the driving routes, the supply lists and budget), I hadn't planned for these new obstacles.

At this point, I was angry with myself for not taking the weather into account and failing to have my car looked over earlier.  However, I am fully aware that nothing is set into stone; that no plans are ever fool-proof.

So, I bought a plane ticket.  Regardless of weather and car woes, I was determined to get to Arizona.

This part, those days leading up to an adventure, the anticipation; this is the part that makes my stomach flip and my palms sweaty.  I get anxious and start doing that prediction thing, all the while acknowledging my inability to truly forecast what will happen to me.  I think of scenarios and imagine strangers with blank faces whom I will meet.  I feel paralyzed by the fear of the unknown, but the clock keeps ticking and the tickets are already bought, so there is no backing out now.  

Once I am on the plane, though, all of those nerves will subside, as if I am diving into the ocean, shattering my fears as I break the surface and finally able to kick my legs and swim. I have become familiar with this rush of sudden freedom.  Setting out to explore solo arouses the anxious, but excited traveler within me and there is little that will stop her from getting to where she wants to go.  Deciding to travel has been one of the most rewarding and enlightening choices I could have ever made.  I've always been told to do it while I'm young and able, while I have nothing to lose.  So, despite the imaginary fears of getting kidnapped and the all-to-real fear of running out of money, I have dedicated myself to actually seeing the places that I go to in daydreams.

Holding the Hand of Fear

I have decided to use fear as an inciter of action.  For a long time, I considered fear a weakness that I couldn't shake.  Instead, though, I think it is important to hone in on what you fear and use that knotted feeling in your gut to influence your next move.  That twisted, confused nausea has been the driving force for many of my decisions in the last year of my life.  Living with no regrets has been my personal motto ever since I realized that the only way to learn is to make, what some people refer to as, mistakes.  These choices often lead to the most enlightening and telling experiences in my life, so I refuse to label them as wrong.

I am a strong believer in free will, as well as accepting things I cannot change.  Balancing these two notions is difficult, but acknowledging that there is a limit to those things that I can control has allowed me to take chances with the unknown; like stumbling through a dance I'm still learning, holding the hand of an invisible individual who carries me past the missteps and exposes me to the rush of a low dip.  The dance continues so long as I listen to the music and, albeit fearfully, take the next step.  There isn't always a blaring chorus, but sometimes a simple, ceaseless beating that reminds me to keep going.  I have learned to enjoy the soft hum of the spaces between the choruses and focus on growing with the melody.

I am writing my own song and dance with no formal training in either, but persisting, nonetheless.  The steps are unconventional and the song, quite often, out of tune, but these idiosyncrasies are the only things that keep me dancing with the unknown.

I hope...

I hope that I never shake this feeling.

I hope that I will always feel somewhat adolescent; childlike.

I hope that I will forever hold a sense of curiosity, of wonder and a wild abandon of growing up.

I hope that when I look out across an ocean or a mountain landscape, my breath will forever be stolen from my lungs by the immensity of this world.

I hope that there never comes a day when I feel too old to swing,

 or too busy to step back and relish in the uncertainty of it all.

I hope that despite the recklessness of my actions, I never regret a thing, for regret only blinds us from the lessons to be learned from living freely.

I hope that when I do climb mountains,

when I reach the top,

I will still be the same girl that took the first step upwards;

The same girl that realizes, having climbed higher than ever before,

there are always other obstacles to wrestle.

I hope that I never forget that wrestling is also playing;

that work can also be fun.

I hope I never settle for a life of solitary, melancholy routine.

I will not forget that strangers are just one introduction away from becoming new friends.

I hope I never pass up an opportunity to explore; a place, a person or a feeling.

I hope I never shake this unyielding appetite for life.

Utopia

I very often find myself in a mental tornado of 'what is the point of it all?' thoughts that seem to render all of my actions null.  They circle back around to, 'you're just going to die in the end,' and finding worth in almost anything becomes impossible.

Too often I've been told to follow my dreams and yet, my dreams seem wholly unattainable in this life.  I dream of a happiness not warranted by materials or money, but that of being a part of this earth.  I dream of simply seeing the beauty that surrounds us without the second thought of the literal cost to do so.  I wonder what this world would be like if we erased the lines on all of the maps that separate us and became aware of the actual lack of these boundaries that have been created by humans.  

Perhaps it is naive to dream of this utopia, but for me, it all seems so simple.

My lack of understanding of evil and greed does not come from religion or science, but the very simple fact that I am a human.  I feel lonely and misplaced, and yet I know that we all feel this way at times, despite the fact that we should all be in this together.

I can imagine the simplicity of living for the sake of experiencing this world we are tied to, rather than fitting nicely, comfortably I guess, into a society.  Some have argued that we would not be awarded the luxuries that we do have (and may I add, take for granted) without the societal rules that are in place.  But would we not still have our minds?  Would we not be better off if we shared, rather than claimed things as our own and guarded them against others?

And again, I will stand, as if naked and naive before you and ask, why can we all just not get along?

Perhaps

Perhaps I will never feel settled, I thought today.  Perhaps my wandering about, aimlessly, is actually where I have settled myself.  I have been trying to pinpoint exactly what this life of mine is meant to be all about.  And trying.  And trying.  And thinking and wondering.

Perhaps I am a dandelion.  I am aged and seeding, anticipating the wind that will blow me in all directions.

It's my very own perpetual, unyielding struggle to miraculously discover some sort of worth in it all.  When I think about what makes my heart stop or what steals the breath from my lungs, my minds eye too often envisions the crooked lines of a map; the green, shady ridges of mountain ranges spread across countries I have never been before; the blue rivers snaking across states; the multitude of roads that could take me to those paper mountains.  I imagine myself as a vagabond; a nomad; a traveler.  I used to imagine traveling to cities, glorified in my head by media and sparkling lights.  I imagined Paris and New York and London.

Now?  Not so much.  I yearn for the cottage tucked away in a forest or a cabin at the top of a mountain.  Every inch of me thirsts for a tent in Patagonia and waking up for the sun, rather than an alarm.

All of these things, though, feel greedy.  If I were to escape those societal urges to have a job and somehow traveled to all of the places I yearn for, what would I be doing but seeing?

Finally, I started looking into volunteering for conservation projects.  Nature has always mesmerized me.  The fact that we, as humans, see this world as our own has perplexed me always.  How we claim land and post "Private Property" signs as if it exists for the sole purpose of laying beneath our feet is a joke to me.  We may "own" these small patches while we're here, but it was here long before us and will continue on after us, so in reality, that land owns us.  It keeps us grounded to a place, for a lifetime for some people.

As I narrow down the things that I most certainly do not want for this life, I am gradually understanding those things that I do want.

The greatest want: to make a difference.  For these breaths to not be wasted and my time to matter.

Compassion, Peace and All of the Things We Take For Granted

 I stare at blank pages, 

imagining the lives of others;

in hopes of connecting through common heartache.

Words are my solace,

like constellations,

coming together to form a beautiful spectacle.

 I want these words to build a kingdom

of people who understand

that this life can only be beautiful

if we sparkle together, as one.

There are billions of stars shining up there,

but we only name the ones that shine brightly, together.

Let's make this life a constellation of

friendship,

love,

and most of all, understanding.

Each of us, bursting,

yet feeling the explosion singularly.

How do we silence our egos?

Let's illuminate that dark sky separating each speck of light.

Instead of individual stars, 

let's be the sunrise;

a fiery breath of unity.

Let us rise above the horizon as a single ray of sunlight, 

devouring the earth

with a light that cannot be shielded;

a light that will never flicker away.

Let us live together

in a way, 

that if one of us is to fizzle out, 

we will shine even brighter in their honor.

Just Sitting

I walked to Starbucks this afternoon to get some research and writing done for something that actually has a deadline, but here I sit; facing down, yet another blog entry. The sun is out, but it's no more than 45 degrees outside and I am perched up in a wooden chair on the very small patio of a coffee shop in Atlanta.  The breeze is a nice contradiction to the warm sun beating down on the sleeve of my hoodie.  

I hear a woman behind me say, "I don't know how they make lollipops."  When I turn to see who may have posed such a question, I see a very short woman in sunglasses and a hat holding the hand of an even tinier little boy, capped with a knitted beanie and bending over in the middle of the road playing with his shoe.  He gazes up at her, one hand on his shoe, one in her own hand, and she begins theorizing the different ways in which the stick gets inside the lollipop.  

The only other couple braving the less than ideal temperatures seated to my right are discussing the lack of creativity in a world of constant motion.  She's teaching him, it seems.  She speaks.  He asks questions.  She speaks, again.  She tells him that writers, photographers, painters and creators, in general, can do best to go to a place and sit.  Her advice: the bar you drive by and wonder about, a random city bench, or even just starting a conversation you have always wanted to with a person you love, go there and breathe it all in.  I liked her advice.  Therefore, I started writing.  

The traffic is moving all around me and it's ironic, to me, after being in a tourist town all summer.  The woman was right.  Everyone is in perpetual motion around here.  Going somewhere, on the phone with someone, simultaneously sending a text message and making dinner plans.  We don't just stop and take a breath enough.  

Relish in the stand still traffic that gives you an opportunity to be alone with your thoughts.

Walk sometimes.  If somewhere is close enough, just walk.  You'll surprise yourself at what you'll notice at a slower pace.

Focus.  If you're reading a book or a magazine or following a recipe or just listening to a friend's story.  Live in that moment.  In each moment.  Let your mind be transfixed on the reality before your eyes and be thankful for every minute of it.

Freedom

My adult life has been made up of several leaps of faith.  With each new opportunity, I jump from one stepping stone to the next, much like a child finding their way across a river on slippery rocks.  No matter how sure footed I think that I am, there is always that chance I might fall right off and suffer the consequences.  Thus far, I'm prancing across the stones quite nicely.  I do feel rather silly sometimes, pretending like I am grown and know exactly what I am doing.  When I look within myself, I find nothing but a lost girl, anxiously searching for the right step to take on my journey.

I sometimes feel like I lack ambition.  Not because I do not want to do things, but I am so unsure of where I am headed in this life that deciding to do anything makes me nervous.  The word 'career' makes me cringe.  I am passionate about living.. not about working for a lifetime.  Don't get me wrong, I am a hard worker.  However, I cannot understand doing work that I don't enjoy, simply for the pay off at the end of the week.  

I want to be happy.  I want to explore and see and taste and feel and hear.  I am here and alive for only a short time.  Why waste it by ignoring the purest parts of being human?  Why go through the motions every week, simply to mark off each day on a calendar?  Why not forget what day it is and soak in everything that you can in a single moment, every moment?  

Forward Motion

"To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often."

I wear this phrase around my wrist these days and it is the perfect reminder to always try new things.  Since I have been in Alaska, I have experienced so many new things and met so many amazing people.  I feel safe here, now.  It's funny how it happened, really.  I thought that I would feel foreign or fearful of strangers, when in reality, I feel welcomed and comfortable in this place.  Skagway is certainly a one of a kind town when it comes to the overwhelming sense of community.  

This is a small town with big characters and big hearts.  You meet people, knowing you will only be near them for a short period of time and get to know them even faster because of that.  The fact that people in this town come from all over the place to work for the summer has opened my eyes to even more places to visit and explore.  

I could not be happier with my decision to come here.  As the summer is slowly winding down, I'm reminded again of my inability to stop time; to force things to stay the same; to halt change. But within that realization is a glint of hopefulness for my future travels.  I am anxiously anticipating visiting friends in their own home towns and learning even more about the people who have reserved spots in my heart forever.

People change me.  New friends.  New perspectives.  New horizons.

The World Is My Oyster

I haven't written here in quite some time because my travels have taken me to a place where sitting behind a computer screen makes me feel rather indignant.  Staring blankly into images and words that are far from me offends the surrounding beauty that can be described as none other than breathtaking.  It's funny how emotional I become over a mountain landscape, I suppose.  There have been many moments that I have almost been brought to tears trying to understand the massiveness of the world beneath my feet.  For the past two months, I have literally been surrounded by natural giants that leave me humbled and awestruck.  

I am small.

I am human and I am nothing compared to the trees that make up the forests, that blanket the rocks that build up the immense mountains towering above me.  This place, with it's glaciers and native history, it makes you realize the abruptness of human lives; it makes you acknowledge the brevity of our time to experience, to see, to live.  

I had no idea what to expect when I came here.  It has only been a short time, but I have learned so much about myself, as well as history about a place that many people never get to see.  I know now that this place will forever be special for me, but it motivates me even more to adventure throughout the world.  I am small, but I am mobile.  Unlike the trees, I am capable of growing and adapting anywhere.  I am blessed for that.  

     

And my favorite thing about this place: the wildflowers.  They are abundant.  It is unlike anything I have ever seen.  I want them all in my hair.  I certainly did not expect so many beauties.  The dandelions are everywhere.  Their resilience is my intrigue.  Again, I feel blessed.  Although, I will only be here for a short time, I have adopted it as my home.  At first I did not think I would call it that at all and now I wouldn't want my life any other way.  

Leaping

I'm standing on the edge of a cliff today.  I look far down into a dark, choppy thing that looks more like a solid than what I know is water.  Water that will engulf me with one leap and take my breath away.  I'm hesitant, allowing the doubts to fragment the enthusiastic bursts of courage. The longer I linger, fear seeping in, the atmosphere changes.  There's a storm cloud above me now, dropping slowly at first.  I feel it welling up within me and then the bottom falls out.  The tears come cantankerously, like hard raindrops, rapidly beating onto the ground.  They are uncontrollable now, despite my efforts to restrain them.  I don't know what is worse, holding them, quaking at my eyelids or letting them flow.  And, undeterred by this cloud, I can see a glow in the air surrounding me.  I know there is light within this tiny sorrow, yet I cannot dismiss the fog.

I am embarking on a journey tomorrow that will change my life in ways I cannot, now, imagine.  I will be alone.  I am leaving all of my family and all of my friends to explore new horizons.  The excitement is overwhelming and frightening and joyous all at once.

Today was full of gloomy showers in my small part of this world and it couldn't have been more fitting for my emotions.  Between the showers, there were small rays of light and then another wave of pelting rain would surround me.

I am doing my best to laugh and imagine what is beyond the sad goodbyes because I know I will be back with the people I already love soon enough.  I am looking forward to the new souls I am sure to meet and hoping that this plunge that is making my insides leap about will be the start of many climbs and leaps in the future.

My life, lately, has been filled with tearful departures and warm hellos.  It gets harder leaving people after losing others for good.  I imagine dreadful scenarios in which certain goodbyes could be my last.  I'm training my mind to acknowledge these thoughts, but tuck them away, knowing that tomorrow could bring any sort of terrible or, better yet, a number of amazing things.  Learning to see the light through the fog is one of the hardest lessons to understand, but most important, I think.  We are all destined for darkness at some point.  Accepting this and using it to our advantage is the only way to fight the sorrow.

So, here I go.  Setting my own example.  I'm not depending on anyone to push me from behind (although, I believe, sometimes, this would be easier).  I'm bracing myself and the fall is becoming more and more real, as goosebumps creep up, through my skin.  I'm spreading my arms, wide, away from my body and then far above my head.  Knees bent, toes tipping from the edge.  I'm leaping.  I'm diving.  I'm anticipating the impact and embracing the flipping in my gut.  So, here I go.

Dressing Room

I think life is very much like the (tumultuous) trials of a dressing room.  We are always slipping into a certain size, feeling inadequate because they never seem to fit perfectly.  Who do they measure these clothes to fit, anyway?  The most comfortable of garments allow some wiggle room; the big sweaters and sweat pants; flowing dresses or t-shirts.

There are no universal truths; just like you will never find an article of clothing specifically tailored to your body without searching out some revision.  We all hold individual truths that we try to fit into categories.  Race or gender or religion.  Right or wrong.  We look to one another for approval, when we should be looking within ourselves.  There is no 'one size fits all' in this life.

I think we forget this too often.  We run with the herd, through school and seeking out careers.  We don't construct our own realities; we allow them to be built up in front of us, without questioning whether or not they make us personally happy.  We take the easy way out, instead of sewing our own size or taking a different path.

How do you find your happiness?  What about society's structure makes you want to be a part of it?  What makes us try so relentlessly to fit?

Who Needs It?

They say, "Money doesn't grow on trees."

But fruit does.

And all we really, like really, need to survive

is food.

Contemplate that.

(photo credit:  Pink Hedgehog Photo)

Go Confidently

I feel paralyzed, sometimes, by the uncertainty of making choices.  With no one to narrow my focus but myself, it's terrifying to even decide the simplest of things.  What if I'm wrong?  And who is to say that I am?  How do I define this in my own life?  

There will always be people giving you advice or trying to tell you what to do.  Ultimately, though, once your of age to pick and choose your own destiny, you are solely to blame for the outcomes.  It's daunting.  

I read an anonymous quote recently that said, "Don't grow up.  It's a trap."   

It is.  

So, I've decided to do just that.  Never grow up; to never surrender my childish spirit.  To dream wildly.  To live happily.  

Photo credit: Pink Hedgehog Photo

One of my favorite men from history said it best.  If you can heed this advice, I mean truly live by it, your decision making can only point you in the right direction.  

Free as a Bird

I met (and envied) quite a few birds today.

The way they can be so in sync, yet so independent from the flock, all at the same time.

Today I watched a pelican break from an ever-flowing v-formation and leisurely dip the tip of his wing into the waves.  It was as if he were stepping a toe in to test the temperature.   

He didn't stray too far before returning to the familiarity of the flock, but that moment of lonesome exploration left him all the wiser.  

I feel like a bird these days.  Although my wings feel feeble and unpracticed, I can't help but test the water.  

Spinning

If I were to explain the most important lesson I have ever learned (or am attempting to accept, really) in five words or less, it would have to be this:

Change is inevitable.

Leaves change with the seasons.  Kids spring up from crawling to running and sprout into teenagers almost as if before your eyes.  Natural disasters wipe out entire cities.  People come and people go.

  

You can't stop it.  

Sometimes I feel like I'm a hamster spinning on a wheel and the only thing I can do is go faster.  Everything tells me I have to be one step ahead of that whirling beneath my toes.

With each breath of acceptance that change is, in fact, inevitable, I feel myself more at peace; more willing to face any fear, to chase any dream; more in control.

If you liked this, you may also enjoy: Head in the Clouds , Rambles or My Life is SO Over.

Fall Fever

We have had some perfect weather here in Atlanta for the past couple of days.  While the few before that were wintry and damp, the sun came out to warm us up a bit.  Temperature drops and orange leaves always musters a sense of nostalgia in me.  It's as if I long for some perfect fall I may very well have never lived before.  Maybe I just feel like good things are to come.  Either way, I welcome this feeling of perpetual change with a pumpkin spice latte.

I decided to do a photo tribute to fall.  Only because my phone memory is filling with pictures of leaves in transition that I'm too proud of not to share.  It's funny how a beautiful setting makes me feel like a real photographer.  

Happy Fall Y'all!

If you liked this post, you may also enjoy: The Marvelous Music Midtown