Cape May, New Jersey

We took our first family vacation, just the four of us without extended family. On a friend’s recommendation, we went to Wildwoods and Cape May, New Jersey. It was still the off season so our hotel was about a quarter the price it will be in a month and there are deals on shopping and activities. We did have to deal with off-season Spring weather. One day it rained so long and hard there was significant street flooding. It got a little dicey in our car trying to find the pancake restaurant. The next day, however, it was high 60s and sunny.

Wallowa County, Oregon

This should have been the first post on Baobabs, Pagodas, and the Taj Mahal. But much like Crater Lake and the Redwoods, I took my childhood haunt for granted for far too long. My silence on the matter has never been for lack of love. When I feel homesickness, it is often for Wallowa County. For riding bikes and dipping my feet in the lake’s frigid waters. So deep is my connection to this land that I did not realize that I never created a post about it until a few months ago. So when my son and I visited my family in Oregon this summer I made a point to take pictures of my favorite place: Wallowa County, Oregon.

Acadia National Park

Acadia National Park is beautiful. There really isn’t much else I can say on the matter. We stayed there only briefly. Long enough to enjoy the views, take a picture of a bridge, and play on the beach near a recent boat-wreck that was washing to shore. Nothing I can say will do it justice except to tell you to go. Go now. Go in the fall for the leaves. Go in the summer for the sun. Just go. You will be inspired.

New England

Fall is here and with it comes a childhood dream: New England Foliage. The first time I expressed my desire to drive around New England in the fall, my husband declared me crazy. But over the three years we have been together, the theme has cropped up again and again. My Aunts, my grandmother, my cousins, extra-extended family, etc. all praising the beauty of a northeastern falls that they have seen or stating their dreams of seeing them someday. This ledmy husband to change his stance and declare my entire family crazy instead. Apparently, I am not to blame for my strange travel dreams as they were engrained into me by my kin.

The Outer Banks

I am good at being alone. Equally so in a crowded room as an open field at dusk. I am good at silence because it is never really silent. Not when you open yourself to the sounds of the vibrating bass the wind thrusts and pounds against your ears or the rustling and pushing of the grass like a crowd moving together and against each other. And I am good at noise. The screeching, clanking, swishing, humming, drumming of modern reality. It is music.

I am comfortable with my own thoughts. I chuckle audibly at jokes in my head, to the scathing, judgmental stares of others. Yet, I can easily navigate a gathering of diverse conversationalists. Admittedly, empathy makes the crowd easier than the singular mind because I am less forgiving of myself.