I am in the mountains as you read this. I am unplugged and writing on paper as God intended.
We have a timeshare here. Makes us sound well-endowed, eh? But it is an Albertan thing that is far less glitteratti than it sounds. Still, it is a nice condo nestled in the more majestic part of the Rockies with hot springs and golf courses and trails galore (and a little like Arkansas because the locals live rustic and free ranging).
I have other get-away dreams. Dreams of spending a summer overlooking the Mississippi and whiling away the days in dinky B.C. mountain towns capturing the people and setting with words and a little bit of artistic license.
But enough about me. What about you. Impose whatever limitations on yourself you feel necessary or fling family, job and sense to the wind.
In your mind’s eye, where are you and why?
I have two or three. Hanging on a beach in Maui, just reading books, wading in the surf, maybe a little fishing. Or some still pristine island, with beautiful flowers.
Traveling to County Cork in Ireland to find the graves of my ancestors, and see how and where they lived.
Going to Japan. No reason, no plan. Just something to do.
Can I go back in time? My dream getaway is to be in Asbury Park in the 1960’s hangin with Bruce with his around me. Ah, to be a Jersey Girl! 🙂
For me, its drinking a glass of wine on the terrace of a swank Parisian restaurant, watching stylish people pass by. Or sitting under a huge tree in a sunny french garden, Monet’s perhaps, whiling away the hours in a good book, and a bagette with slabs of brie on top.
I’m having my morning coffee on my Upper West Side terrace that overlooks Central Park. After reading the NY Times and perusing the blogosphere, I head to the Whitney for the Jenny Holzer exhibit. At night, the theater. That would be heaven to me.
several… alone, hiking the Apalachian Trail. at least a month’s worth of it… fiji. for a month. with a gentleman friend and very little clothing between us. with my children, couch-surfing around the world for a year. just a backpack and an imaginary and infinite source of cash, but still sleeping in hostels and dives and just rolling in a big ol’ flat earth…
Hmm, let’s see. I would be in one of two places; up in our retreat in Union, Washington or in the outskirts of Santa Cruz, CA.
In Union, I’d be at the Purdy Cut-Off road with a fishing pole in the water hoping that a fish will rise. The fishing hols is surrounded by tall Maple tress and ferns and the ubiquitous sounds of singing birds make it exta special. My afternoon run along Hoods Canal (smaller part of the Puget Sound) is also a treat while my eyes feast on the snow-capped peaks of the majestic Olympian Mountains.
In Santa Cruz, I’d be rising before dawn (no surprise here) loading my surfboard into the truck on a chilly morn as I head out to Pleasure Point. I’d drive along the scenic Highway 1 and arrive at the bluffs. All around is covered with dew and as I step out towards the bluffs I smell a hint of brine in the air. I can hear the sound of surf, tumbling over and over. Afternoons would consist of either running or mere hiking in the local mountains and capping the evening off at one of the many small and quaint local coffee shops before heading to bed with a good book and a couple of journal entries.
Glad to hear you’re down to the rudiments; pen & parchment. Enjoy your time and be well. Cheers.