When Your Heart Speaks
It was a gift from long ago, and I always liked its whimsical, wry message. I chose it for the trip because I'd just completed one of my larger, hardbound journals and was looking for something smaller and lighter.
The notebook worked like a charm. It's 6 inches by 6 inches, spiral bound, 180 pages. I wrote loopy and large with generous margins (unlike my usual), and am hoping to finish it today, cheating by just two days with "end-of-trip" thoughts.
I've leafed through it this morning, marveling at what I might already have forgotten had I not written it down: the taxi driver in Fort William who used to be a shepherd, the group of hikers in Kererrer who found my sweater and gave us a ride back to town from the ferry, the absolutely perfect cottage I saw during that rainy walk in Oban.
It wasn't my heart that was speaking. It was the world.
Labels: travel
<< Home