humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
This Side of Time
Samantha’s diminutive young fingers sunk into the dark soil, plowing through the old oak leaves married with the dirt through time. Stopping she felt the burden of no memory of how she got here and most of all why she was digging in the ground for what seemed to a forest floor. The surround trees, told her that much. The moon, full tonight, gave all its light to tell her it was at least late autumn if not early winter, for the leaves were few on the slender oaks, but many on the ground. Though, the moon was ominous and the the trees talkative with their creaking sways to the night’s breeze, none of this felt threatening to Samantha. In fact, all of this sewn together felt more like — home. Oddly, even the winter air did not feel cold, if anything, she felt a sudden swell of warmth. Possibly from inside, she was unsure, she just knew felt a sense of comfort that, despite her lack of memory, seemed foreign to her recent past.
By Daniel Pierce5 years ago in Wander
Good Samaritans, even on a different continent
So, I'm going to start this off by saying this happened quite a few years ago. There might be a few missing details or gaps because of my own terrible memory, but this experience impacted my life and just goes to show how good humans can be, even if you can't understand each other's languages.
By Hannah Alexander5 years ago in Wander
My Hometown, My Heart
Hometowns. The place that helps build you, mold you, teach you. I knew at a young age that my hometown was special. It had a special kind of magic to it. Not the kind of magic that you see in movies or read in books. It’s the kind of magic that you feel in the air or see in the scenery. Pure bliss. I could walk out of my house and look out the backdoor and see the most beautiful mountain peak called La Jicarita, a part of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. I remember taking a moment just to breathe in that view, to capture it in my mind and savor the feeling of peace. That was a sight I can and never will forget.
By Dominique Rodarte5 years ago in Wander
The Girl Scouts Saved My Life
“Would you like to buy some cookies, Mister?” I turned to see the girl scout. She was about eleven years old, her auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a dark green shirt and khaki pants. A light green sash decorated with pins and medals was draped across her chest. She smiled up at me, showing braces. She stood behind a table loaded with boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I stopped at the table and examined the boxes.
By Ricky Taylor5 years ago in Wander
Historicity and Character in Urban and Rural Landscapes
Taking pictures always allows me to look at this world with a different perspective, a different set of eyes. I make sure that every time I go out, I bring my camera because I never know what new surprises the environments I exist in will have for me when I'm looking through the lens.
By Finn Baird McConnell5 years ago in Wander
A Path of Roots, Grounding, Ancestors, Sensuality
I wake up some mornings and forget for a moment that we're in the middle of this pandemic. It would be easy, as someone "non-essential," with a roof over my head, to feel directionless in the middle of all of this - the chaotic soup of events in the world right now, caught by the latest turmoil and my powerlessness over each thing in another part of the world, and also in mine. I've grounded myself, instead, in remembering things I've felt passionate about, nourishing parts of myself that I haven't, and in excavating my childhood through an emotional sobriety 12-step process. Alternating things that delight me with those that challenge me to look at, back and forth, the terrible, and that which I love, taking a breath. And going back and back and back into my past brings up many things, and one of them is my ancestors. The dysfunction in my family, and the creativity and life in it, the dysfunction in the cultures I come from, western and eastern, and the beauty in them too. I'm starting to get unstuck from my trauma and be able to go back and forth with more flow between pleasure and challenge, rather than sticking with either until I go flat.
By Kora Tien Wellness5 years ago in Wander
Beyond the Language Barrier
“Do I have a fever, Lori?” Cheeks tingling and burning, I seated myself across from my translator at the wooden table. Lori raised her eyebrows and gently placed her hand on my forehead and on the back of my neck. She frowned slightly, “I think so, Maggie, but let me double check.” She called out a few words I couldn’t understand and a middle-aged woman poked her head out of a makeshift kitchen a couple of rooms away. I knew they were speaking Khmer, a tongue only spoken in the country of Cambodia.
By Maggie Elizabeth 5 years ago in Wander
Faith in Humanity
I constantly hear people say that there are no good people left in the world and quite frankly I use to think the same thing. I would get so stuck on all the bad things happening in my life and in the world that I couldn’t see all the good that was happening too. Or if I did see the good, I was still convinced there was more bad than good. I needed to switch my dark lenses for those notorious rose colored glasses. I needed to see that good deeds can be seen all around us, we just have to keep our eyes open.
By babs gardella5 years ago in Wander
Part VIII : Memorable Moments that could only Happen in Plattsburgh
Hitching a Ridge The Northway In 1988, homecoming was a given. So when Steven and Matt found Tim in the Point upon arrival, they more than a little surprised but why? We must backtrack a few hours first. At the time, I lived in Albany, and Steve, Tim and Matt rolled into my apartment at 304 Quail Street. I was promptly informed that Tim would not be accompanying Steve and Matt on the final leg up the Northway. Neither my memory nor my primary sources can confirm the issue, but at the time, Tim didn't put up much of an argument. He was completely resigned and lodged no protest as the car drove off. Still, the arrangement would not do since my departure time was three or four hours away. No time to waste, Tim went full Plattsburgh mode. In other words, the chance for decadence was out of reach, and Plattsburgh bred us to find an expedient solution at all costs.
By Rich Monetti5 years ago in Wander
