Wanderer

Grandma Charlotte called my dad a Gypsi. Perhaps I inherited a bit of that. Maybe it was the snow capped mountains of Utah, camping in the cactus spread mountains of Arizona, breathing in the air of Michigan, taking in the view from the Golden Gate Bridge California, collecting ash from a volcanic eruption in Alaska, feeling the vast beauty in the mountains in British Columbia, tasting the unique sublimely deliciousness of apple bananas in Hawaii, or experiencing a whole new underwater world snorkeling in Maui dipping my toes in the ocean in Maine, soaring through the mountains on a zip line in Tennessee, Circling the entire Lake Superior, yeah it's big alright... touring a submarine in Rhode Island, eating fresh clams in Massachusetts, swimming in beautiful lakes in Connecticut, big 'ole Niagara Falls and the busy city of Chicago. Long, square "blocks" of fields in Iowa, beautiful beaches in Florida, eating Wisconsin cheese, visiting the Minnesota twin cities and all they have to offer, the Glaciers in Montana, early cowboy history in the Dakotas, wide, amazing array of beauty in Wyoming. The list seriously goes on... It's nice however to finally come home. They say home is where the heart is. My heart is here. No matter where your home is, don't forget to wander once in a while. Remind yourself that the world is a big place and no matter where you end up, your path will always lead you right back to where you belong. Home.