humanity
If nothing else, travel opens your eyes to the colorful quilt that is humankind.
Simple Living
Three years ago I wandered into one of many of life's crossroads. My roommate and I had to leave the apartment in which we had been living. We are both in our sixties, and it was an alright place for us to be. Granted, it was a basement apartment and the mold situation had made both of us sick on occasion. But, the landlord had finally installed a dehumidifier and that seemed to take care of the problem.
By Linda Paul7 years ago in Wander
Coming Home
Leaving your country for the first time might be one of the hardest things you have ever done. Scratch that. Every time you leave is hard. You go away for some long term travel, for a gap year, to work. You begin your adventure, your terrifying and exciting journey, in the first weeks, even months of a new start, in a new place, alone. Everything is new, odd, weird, fantastic. As soon as you step out of the airport, it's like the air smells different, the sun is not the same, and the possibilities are infinite.
By Ana Rodrigues7 years ago in Wander
Mountains, Beach, or Moon
I was thinking about what I should write about. I thought about answering a question. I looked up online and found this question. Thought it would be cool to answer. Would you rather live in the mountains, on the beach, or on the moon? Why? That's a good question.
By Jade Renteria7 years ago in Wander
A Heart in Ruin. Top Story - April 2019.
“Walking at random through the streets, we came by chance upon the Cathedral of Notre Dame. I shall long remember my first impression of the scene within. The lofty gothic ceiling arched far above my head,, and through the stained windows the light came, but dimly–it was all still, solemn and religious.”
By The Rumble Online7 years ago in Wander
Don't Forget About Pensacola Beach
Don't Forget About Pensacola Beach Schools of small fish pluck barnacles from the post of the dock, while big fish scurry below. Scraps of grass float in from the other end of the bay, taking with them tiny crustaceans. The waves are gentle, and the tide is high. The salty water feels cool on my dirty feet. In the distance, I see a few paddle boarders paddling above the sandbar in the middle of the bay. A fish breeches the surface, gobbling up plankton on the way up. In the far distance, a boat named "Southern Charm" heads towards the canal, its inhabitants eager for the space to pick up speed. Buoys bob, informing boaters that a sandbar is aflutter with string rays dwelling beneath. On the other side of the bay, restaurants, bars and hotels inhabit the horizon.
By Layne Radlauer7 years ago in Wander
Beauty of Destruction
If someone had told me a year ago that I would see the beauty in destruction, I wouldn't know how to respond. Most things that endure destruction never look beautiful. However, it all is. As a child, I watched my parents get distraught over broken things; broken objects, broken bones, broken windows. It taught me that there is nothing good about broken objects, but that can't be more than wrong.
By Nadiana Jesch7 years ago in Wander
Asking Someone About Their Ancestry
I recently had a conversation with a friend that had come back to Canada from working overseas. I had asked him what are some differences that he noticed when he came back to Canada after being away from the country so long. He replied that Canadians are too sensitive when it comes to asking about our backgrounds, especially when they look foreign. I looked back in curiosity. Please elaborate for me.
By Brian Anonymous7 years ago in Wander
