Musings on......Traveling
Created | Updated Jun 6, 2003
Hera turned on her again. She sent a gadfly to plague her, which stung her to madness. The fly drove her all along the long sea strand, and did not allow her to stop for food or drink, and for sleep no rest was taken.
Io had a gadfly to force her, the Nomadic peoples of Africa feel no one place to be their home, and our history shows that we once were travellers. But why? What is it within us that forces some of us to move constantly?
It starts at a young age, this thing within us. A seed sprouts when being read stories of distant lands, of the peoples of countries with exotic tongues. It continues into teenage, when we become aware of the world around us. We are exposed to pictures of places that seem at first impossible, the imaginations of a madman given flesh. And the seed grows, until it becomes all-consuming. The feeling overwhelms us, engorges our soul and takes us to the countries that we have only witnessed previously in dreams. And there we find what we seek, be it seas of rich blues that remind us of the eyes of lost loves, or rock so red we imagine ourselves inside the very heart of some great beast.
And so it is satiated. But not for long. We return to that place we call home. But here we find "the bends". Not the bends of diving fame, but one born of our experiences. We came up to fast (Or possibly down?) and our very emotions try to escape our skin. Adjustment to what was once normal leads to flashbacks of the wonders we have seen. As so, before our feet go to sleep we move on.
