Easterly Finale

I don’t know what I was waiting for in postponing this update. Something felt incomplete about being home, and part of me wished I was still in the middle of the trip coming here. I wanted to be in Arizona, fingers and toes completely numb, about to watch the sun paint my first view of the Grand Canyon, or feeling the surprise again of entering Gila National Forest in New Mexico, or even just on the road in the middle of nowhere, excited by solitude and fully engaged in all of the unknown land around me.

Most people would be totally grateful for a week-long trip, and the thought of driving across the country would be terribly exciting. And believe me, I have been so excited and grateful. But when I woke up in Bradenton Friday morning, the settled-ness got to me, and I didn’t feel ready for it. I sensed a familiar restlessness, and this worried me.

But these thoughts began to change. I ran errands all day Friday, and the familiarity of this town was a comfort instead of a bother. Then Saturday, my mom and I went kayaking in Terra Ceia, through mangrove passages and hidden inlets, the sun bright and warm, the Gulf water splashing all over me. Later I drove to the beach to catch the sunset. It was there, sitting in the sand, watching the crowd gather at water’s edge to say goodnight to the sun, that I began to feel some sort of completion. And then excitement. I was overwhelmed, grateful to be around family and old friends and such familiar places, looking forward to this new stage in my life.

While I hope I will be traveling as much as possible in the future, I also believe that, no matter how long I’m here and where else I go, Bradenton will always be home. And, for right now, it feels so right to be here.

Three final thoughts about this trip:

1) As of Louisiana, I have now been in a car in all forty-eight of our continental states. I’m proud of this, though I am also consistently amazed by how gigantic our country is and how much there is still to see. I have lists of places around the world I want to visit, but even if I end up only traveling these states, I know there is enough to keep me thrilled and curious for the rest of my life. I want to wander the Oregon coast, hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and sleep by the river, become familiar with Gila National Forest, camp in Yosemite…there’s so much. And while I enjoy the idea of feeling settled here, I hope to never lose a sense of wonder and curiosity about the rest of our country.

2) For the past couple of weeks I have been reading and re-reading Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry. This trip, moving to Bradenton with some sense of permanence for the first time since high school, has allowed for all sorts of thoughts about the act of returning home, a process that encompasses every part of our being and creates room for seemingly endless reflections on life’s present, past, and future. This book has complemented and paralleled this process in an astonishingly beautiful way. Berry is the literary saint of small-town America, with a soft, thoughtful tone perfect for roadtrips and outdoor reading, and his ideas about returning home challenge and clarify my own. It doesn’t hurt that he writes with a careful eloquence that can make me close my eyes with a peaceful smile in one moment and then make me sick with jealousy in the next. I can’t imagine a better traveling companion for this trip. Except maybe Britton, or someone else who could have an actual conversation with me. But that’s beside the point.

3) Six days, nine states, and 3,373.5 miles, for anyone who was wondering.

On Wednesday I go to Sarasota to meet with the editor of the magazine where I hope to intern. If that works out, the temporary permanence (if there is such a thing) of my return to Bradenton will feel more complete. If it doesn’t, I am not really sure what’s coming next. But don’t worry…I’ll be sure to write.

Thank you for reading. Remember love.