I'm sittin' in the railway station
got a ticket for my destination
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase
and guitar in hand
and every stop is neatly planned
for a poet and one-man band.
I wish I was
I love to travel. I love seeing new places and exploring new things, and I get a rush when I'm in a plane at take-off, just as I get a wistful pang when I'm saying goodbye to someone at the train station.
When I'm away, though, I always feel just a bit off-kilter. I don't sleep well without my piles of pillows and the warm bodies of my dogs pressing, the weight of them pressing the sheets down near my toes. If Fuzzy's not there, the bed feels huge and empty, even when it's only a twin.
Listening to some vintage Simon and Garfunkel, sounds I grew up with, I'm suddenly struck by the notion that people who enjoy travelling do so, in part, because of the joy found in coming back home.
*”Homeward Bound,” Simon and Garfunkel