I had a bit of a traveler's epiphany the other day.
I had just finished applying for the most amazing Honors scholarship I could possibly imagine receiving (you know the one)... And I had to get out of my apartment.
The sun was going down, so I biked as fast as I could to Gasworks Park and arrived out of breath, exhilarated, blood pounding in my veins...
I meandered around and finally sat on a concrete wall at the edge of the water, alone, at the base of the hill.
I thought to myself, maybe the art of travel is learning to appreciate the place where you are: the people on the hill squawking about their lives... the gentle lapping of the water on a trash-strewn beach... the tinkling of dog collars on the path behind you... The funny thing about Gasworks is you don't actually see the sun set. What you see is the sun illuminating the downtown skyscrapers' glass... brilliant fire orange... blinding color, burning star in your eyes, flickering over the water, warming the colors, making brown buildings golden, making gray skies purple and pink... and the sounds! I wondered what it would be like to be deaf for your whole life, and then suddenly be able to hear! the sounds of the world are a symphony. i swear. In silence and alone, I listened to the sunset sing like angels -- nonexistent to the passerby, only appreciable to those who sit and listen to the undeniable beauty of life echoing and reverberating in the soul... watch the ripples on the water, watch the colors change... watch the boats drift by, watch the sails go down... watch the last beams of sunlight from our life-giving star glint off the windshields of cars on the freeway... watch the fire of a skyscaper burn into your eye sockets go right through your head melt down deep into the core of your being...
hear the symphony fade as the light dies... sink into the still sleep of night...
It is a show. We were made to experience it. I can come up with no other reason for why we exist.
I want to see as much of it as I can.
*crossing my fingers for this scholarship*
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