Travel is a Curious Heart
Travel is the voyage through time, an unmasking of places, people, and histories. In the rubble of civilizations exists story upon story, age in the chips of marble and the pores of brick. Touch them long enough, and the buildings shall speak of art, music, movements, and fight.
Travel is the sip of pineapple, rum, and lime on a south-facing beach, where Poseidon tosses waves ashore to pearly sands. Palm trees sprinkle island chains, and Jurassic ferns cast shade for rainforest adventures. Coconut breezes spritz magic in the air. Breathe it in.
Silent temples of eastern empires speak messages of solitude, peace, and reflection into travelers’ ears. Travel is the keenness for understanding. The blur of past, present, and future is the ultimate meditation for a heart in need of answers.
Travel is the lion’s roar on the savannah plains, enlivening sleeping spirits. Lust for excitement bursts. New species to observe. Cubs in the brush. Tree limbs stretch as if waking from slumber.
Backpacks. Bottles. Thermoses. Tents. Travel is camping beneath the Milky Way, wishing upon shooting stars from foreign mountains or deserts. It is the blistering foot from walking miles. The dry mouth pining for one more sip, the pain, worth it, comes to the waterfall views.
Travel is the language unknown, tongues of new lands like the songs of rare birds. Hear them at the cafe, over a foaming cappuccino, in the bistro chair no store can replicate. Besides leaning fairytale buildings, cultures blend in the cobblestone streets, a linguistic smoothie of French, Italian, and Spanish.
Travel is the Arctic plunges, the Great Wall strolls, the Hawaiian swims, and the Mona Lisa nods. The Moroccan blues, Guinness pints, and curry tastes. Across the globe, it inspires, teaches, opens, and frees. Travel is a curious heart.