Wanderlust

I get nostalgic and lean towards wanderlust when hearing songs like this:

(For the uninitiated: Simon and Garfunkel rock. The end.)

There comes a time when I dream a bit too. I want to travel...not forever, but for a while. And my preferred mode of transportation would be (wait for it) horseback. Yes, it would be hard. Yes, it'd take a long time. Yes, I'm a single young woman and traveling alone, especially with a large, (mostly) unpredictable animal, increases the odds for injury or attack/assault exponentially. 

Do you know what I mean? There's something terribly romantic about riding through a state, or a country, or across the world with nothing except your meager possessions and loyal steed to see you through. But when reading about survival techniques, or how to camp with horses, or what equipment to take, the restlessness begins to flicker.

At this point a trip like that would be impossible. I have too many current responsibilities and a distinct lack of knowledge (though that's being remedied slowly but surely). And there's a tiny little voice that says not yet. 

If/when I get married, maybe he'll want to do something wild and crazy like that with me. 

(I say the 'if' because my chances are very, VERY slim around here, and the 'when' because I would love to be so someday and that desire has most likely not been planted only to be withheld for life. But who knows.)

Maybe his NOT thinking that I'm completely bonkers in that respect will be a good indicator that it's 'meant to be'. 

But I'm not pinning my hopes on that. Should 'he' not come around for a long time, there's still plans to make and things to do and life to be lived. Agreed?

"I'm so tired of being alone

So hurry up and get here

So tired of being alone

So hurry up and get here...."