It's raining again. Chill air, damp bones. The cold creeps into every corner. We are wishing, wishing on spring. Meanwhile, I pack my bag. I am very fond of these preparations. Tucking objects into space, nestling miniature containers in tidy rows. Moving has been etched into my bones. I seek to balance the equation of a minimum weight to a maximum sense of home, bringing little pieces of everything with me, perhaps, carrying little pieces of me everywhere: hibiscus teabags, two butter biscuits, green notebooks, a sample of silken bath oil. Following the roots of the verb to pack, I am taken to carrying together in a bundle, and the making of secret arrangements. The latter definition suits me fine. I am arranging the objects for the comfort of my journey; putting stuff into private patterns.
5 comments:
Here's to many adventures, where ever the road has led you. Beautiful post.
I've been travelling there and back again and am now home. Thanks for your comment Emily and hope that you enjoy wherever your road leads you.
I LOVE the leather bag and the words packed into this small post.
And hi to Emily : )
Hello Cynthia. I hoisted that bag from my dusty attic months ago and it now accompanies me as I wander. It used to belong to my grandma. I like to think of my fingers wrapped around a handle she once held.
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