The bug of Travel

Another day in the Pines. Good Ole Hayfork, California. Where the sun shines brightly, almost unbearably so. The past few days the sun has been pounding down on me. But it only becomes a nuisance in the heat of the day. 


This town hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here. Many locals have warm and welcoming arms when I came into town. It makes me miss my days of living out here in the mountains. This small town was like the wild west. But nowadays, I stop just to visit. My body soon will begin to feel the itch to travel again. Soon I will travel other places in America before my journey goes back to my new home, Sweden.

The land of fairy tales and mystery. My backyard there is a forest that feels as though it is from a magical book. The time will soon come when I go back to that wonderful land.

Breathless Beauty

This new place leaves me breathless. Trees stand tall sporadically placed throughout the eye’s view. They wave as if they are alive in a breeze. Our small traditional red house’s backyard is a forest that came out of a fairy tale. 


Every morning our family begins our walk of adventure through the enchanted forest. The path seems to change everytime we go on a walk, as if trying to catch us off guard. A beautiful melody is heard throughout the trees. The birds are also enjoying this mystical place. 

As we begin our journey, our ears pick up the sound of flowing water from a stream nearby. Thoughts trickled through my mind. They have told me stories of fairies, trolls, and gnomes. This must be their lands. The mystifying area of dreams. 

My two months here in Sweden has been moving so quickly. New obstacles, dreams, and it feels at times I have been thrown into a fantasy world. I must find the Ring!!

Aging Alone

The floor creaked as I took a step forward. As the room shrank with every step, the musty smell devours me. My fingers felt the dirt and dust that was left on the now yellow looking laced curtain. I wiped away the grime from the antique mirror attached to the dresser. My eyes were tired. As I touched my reflection, I noticed my hands were withered and frail. Wrinkles now covered my boney hands. A lonely tear trickled down my powdered cheek. 

This is my lonely home and all that is here is me. The breeze from outside had a shrill sound to it as it echoed the loneliness I feel.

Walking Disaster!

Two and a half weeks have passed since I have started my new life in Sweden. The language some days, leaves Me frustrated, but I still push on to learn it. Many days have involved being in the forests. 


In the distance, you can hear the chainsaw roar to life as we begin our clean up. It started out just two trees. But as a few days passed with doing this. It became about twenty trees. My body was beginning to ache from dragging the branches to multiple burn piles. 

The cold was’nt clinging onto me anymore. Heat was now radiating off of me. Time for the hat to go. There was only a little bit of snow on the ground, but the temperature kept it there. 

Today, I called the shots to have a relaxed day. My other half still stays busy outside chopping logs or cutting trees. But now I have time to write and study Swedish. Before he disappeared to the forest, he askes if I would do the dishes.

About 5-10 minutes pass and I’m in the kitchen working on my task. I grab a dish thinking it belongs in the top cupboards. I open them, and realize it must live in a bottom cupboard. So I kneel down and put it away. With such force, I slammed into the corner of a top cupboard. So much that it closed itself. I dropped to my knees immediately and grabbed my head. The pain shattered my thoughts. I began deep breaths and started calming. Once I pulled my hand away, it was covered in blood. Shit, I thought. With an aching beginning, i walked outside. 

Birk could’nt hear my yelling with his earphones and working with a chainsaw. But once he saw me, his face became serious. Blood now dripped down my face. In just a tank top, underwear, and boots, I looked as if I should be in a horror film.

He rushed me back inside and sternly got me to sit down. It was a small puncture, now going to be my 3rd scar since moving here. 

It seems I’m a walking accident. One day, maybe I will be able to do the dishes without any blood getting involved.