We live in a 25 foot Airstream. We don’t have another house to call home. This, the road, is it.
It’s been almost a year of living this way, state-to-state, river-to-river, and while I share a bunch about it on my instagram, (and the pages of my beautiful journal) I keep my words to a minimum on here.
I captured this image last week while watching the sunrise over Saint George Island. As I sat there, with the glow warming my face, I kept hearing this in my head:
I signed up for an adventure. Not a vacation.
Thomas broke his collarbone and my hair all burned off and vertigo and and and… but this is exactly what it’s all about. The adventure. The blisters from hiking and the clothes freezing on the clothesline and all of it.
These will be the days I will miss the most, even the hardest ones. That much I know, for sure.
My worst day of freedom, is a billion times better than my best day hiding in fear.
