Travel Photography | Haunted By Thoughts of a Sun-Drenched Elsewhere (Miami, FL)
“Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.” (Isabelle Eberhardt)
As I write this blog post I can’t go more than a couple minutes without itching my skin (the burn is now starting to flake). I know, you all really feel for me, especially those who have remained in the Great Grey for the entirety of winter.
Our last couple hours in South Beach was pretty much a wash because of the intense sun burns. We managed to emerge from the dark cool hotel room to eat at a very yummy Cuban restaurant on Ocean Dr. and make our way like mummies to a couple of stores to do some last minute damage. One of the stores that was a MUST on my sister’s list was DASH (of Kardashian madness). She said she was not leaving FL without going, and would be brought in by wheelchair and IV if it came to it 😉 That was the only store that we went into that had a security guard dressed in a three-piece suit. What an experience. To be honest, I’d rather shop at Cabellas 🙂
After reflecting, I think the overwhelming take home note for me from this trip (aside from use sunblock, dummy) was about stepping outside of my comfort zone. I’m most at home in the woods. My dream trips are usually to mountains, national forests, great escapes to places with few foot prints. Some people fear spiders, heights, debt. Me, I fear lots of people. My anxiety level was at an all time high. Wait, you want me to fly into Miami International Airport, traverse through the city of Miami, hit the streets and beach with bikini-clad spriiiiiiing breakers!?! The most people I normally see in a week is when I hit up the grocery store on a Saturday. But this trip forced me to step out of my comfort zone, camouflage into the masses seeking out the sun, forced me to put on a bathing suit when this 30-something girl’s white skin hasn’t bared itself to the world like that in ages, forced me off my routine schedule.
Challenge is a good thing. And when you survive your personal challenges, that’s called soaring.
I watched out the airplane window as we left the sunny expanse and descended into the clouds and back into the grey known as Syracuse NY. As my plane was just about to touch down on the run way there was a little red fox about to cross. He stopped and hunched down in his tracks. He looked sufficiently freaked out, but I was happy to see a familiar face.