Writing from the Road

Posted on July 4, 2002 in Travels - So Cal Writing

I almost can’t write on the road. Strange beds; cars coming in and out of the motel parking lot at all hours; the need to take xanax so that I can sleep; the inability to follow my routine, especially the afternoon visit to Tully’s; the constant company of my wife which I interpret requires my active entertainment; and my sheer exhaustion after hours of trotting through zoos, museums, historic places, or nature trails: these things conspire to place my voice on hold.

But I am grateful for my travels. The time is spent in pure learning. I listen and ask questions at nature talks and wildlife “encounters” where I learn that the heart of the North African desert fox beats at 700 throbs per minute when it pushes itself into high gear to snag a locust. If I am too discombobulated to use my keyboard or my rubber-cushioned pen, I document and create using my camera. I wait for those moments when the hippo rises to sniff a bit of air or look for those borders between the nitrous atmosphere and the heavier one of water. My mind still works creatively and when I come home to my familiar bed and when I return to the familiar chairs at the coffee shop, I am able to write almost as if there has been no interruption.