Enga mellom fjella

Lone Elm

I imagine myself dying unknown in an unknown place. Sound sad? Not if I get to travel around the world with my home on my back for the next 20 years.

By then I'll be past my expiration date.

Old bones are best buried.

But I've also dreamed about a small cottage somewhere where no one goes. No mountains or beach to entice the tourist. No highway to bring them to my door.

There are small towns in Kansas that come to mind. Like Lone Elm.

I'd need a car though.

To be surrounded by prairie, that sea of green grass beckoning me to enter its loneliness while listening to the wisdom that wheat whispers... that's my dream.

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And my response to my response...

We make choices. I've been known to overstay my welcome. Have you?

I've zigged when I should've zagged never realizing until years later that I could've zogged.

In 2008 I had to choose between Emporia, Seattle and Missoula. I chose Montana. That worked for awhile. In 2011 I moved to Costa Rica, keeping my options open to move back. Thankfully moved back.

But now?

Have I stayed here too long? Are my traveling days over? I left my heart in Kansas. Have I been away too long? Where is home?

Do I overthink then whine too much?

~225 words
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