post the seventy-sixth, 2013

when travelling by plane, i am thrilled by the moment we leave the ground. after we trundle around the rough tarmac in our unwieldy fat-flightless tin box... after we carefully align with the thoughtful arrows and cautious lights... after we get going and get going and get going and get going until suddenly we ARE going, and oh!, we are verging on a headlong rush into the winds of fate -- faster! faster! 1, and 2, and 3, and JUMP! and just like that we are no longer unwieldy or flightless, but instead, we are graceful and magic, sprinkled with faerie dust, we illogically float through the air.

when travelling by car, i am thrilled by the moment i drive past the edges of my world, past the last exit of my everyday, past the furthest point in the purview of the traffic guy i listen to each morning. i am lucy in the wardrobe, columbus on the sea, dora at the playground. it can't help but sneak up on me, this past-the-point-ness, because i am simply driving along like normal. driving, driving, la-dee-dah, tops of trees... until... boom! suddenly -- whaaat? where AM i?? i've gone too far! the portcullis has dropped and there's no going back! ah, i am on an adventure for sure.