In the magical land of Facebook, I clicked on a picture a friend commented on, in an album of someone who is not my friend or acquaintance for that matter, and scrolled through them. You may call this creepy, but it was fantastic. Usually if I accidentally click on some random's photos and scroll through I find pictures of them and their friends over and over and I get bored after five pictures. This person has been all over the world, and his photos from Croatia, Italy, Hungary, the Yukon, BC, China... all well photographed, some even amazingly photographed.

By scrolling through his photos it made me sit a little further back in my seat, or a little more on edge in my seat, and go "ahhhh, traveling." I envy this person. I kept saying in my brain, "that will be me some day." I may not have done it when I am 20 years old, but maybe by 25-28, I am quite certain that I will have taken a trip or two to a place that I really wanted to see.

At work the other day I fell into a conversation with a single lady sitting at a table and we talked about traveling. We both agreed that a person must see as much of the world as he or she is able, and that we both do not understand the kinds of people who are content to stay in one city, one province, one country for their entire existence. It doesn't make sense.

I just spent a weekend at Makwa Provincial Park, camping with my family and some friends. It has been a few years since I've gone camping, and much too long since I've been able to go to a lake and canoe, sit on a dock, be just a small human part of the wide big Canadian landscape, covered with trees and water. I hate when I am where the trees are vastly outnumbered by pavement and people, sirens and electronic lights.

Whatever reason people have of loving the big city I don't think I'll ever understand. To visit, to take pictures of, sure, but to love or admire? It seems nonsensical to me.