Places in Between

I love travel, particularly the slower forms. There's just something alluring about the state of flux, location becomes more a function of time and velocity than an actual piece of real estate. But I've found in all the really good journeys it's actually the other way around. Time and velocity don't really matter that much because it's no longer a question of arrival but of passing through. I'm somewhere in northern California or Oregon. It doesn't really matter where, we're headed north
and that's enough. We'll make Seattle sometime tomorrow night and as it approaches, we'll fall back out of flux and into the real world. For now though, we're neither here nor there. We are somewhere in between.