Why I Travel
There’s a scene in the movie Wild that stuck with me.
The protagonist is on the road. She’s exhausted. She has only taken the first few footsteps into her journey, but already she feels the weight of the road. Can I do this? Is this what I’m supposed to be doing? Have I gone crazy?
And then she stoops down, pulls some sagebrush from the road, rubs it in her fingers, closes her eyes and deeply inhales the scent.
The scent of the Earth. The scent of the journey. The scent of the world itself.