What Is Lost (and Gained) When the Traveler Settles Down
Tripping over boxes, unsettled by this process of settling down, I swallow my desire to be on a rickety bus lurching down a rutted road with my head knocking against a grimy window and all of my belongings at my feet. The lush green of Colorado in the early spring reminds me vaguely of Uganda and I spend an hour paging through old trip journals, recalling the smell of chapati and wood-burning fires, motley chickens fanning out their tail feathers against a backdrop of banana trees and mountains.