the dunes

Travel for your Health

The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see.
-G. K. Chesterton

I've got traveling bones. Always have. Keep me in one place for too long and I'll start to feel it. I like to question people's motives, including my own, and I've come to the conclusion that my love for being on the move has nothing to do with escape. I love my home. Say what you will about Northwest, Indiana, but my people are there, I live in pleasant part of town, with a modest lifestyle (living beyond ones needs has a certain air of waste to it, I think), and it's where I grew up. 

Kemil Beach, Indiana, 35mm

Kemil Beach, Indiana, 35mm


But, and this is a big but, there's no substitute for experiencing a new part of the world for the first time. New architecture, new culture, new food. New words, new jokes, new nature. Every time, I feel as though I understand something new about myself and maybe even a little about humanity. There's something to be said about holding a mirror up to yourself from time to time and that tends to be easier in light of new information. From a new perspective.

 I'm traveling with my family this weekend. We're not going too far. No drastic changes in landscape, but still worthy of the word 'travel' .  One of the things I'm most glad about is that my kids will get a breath of fresh air. Getting out of one's routine, even if your routine is to play with toys, is a good thing sometimes. Helps get the metaphorical blood pumping. Stagnation is a stealthy foe, even amongst the young. 

Muir Woods, California, 35mm

Muir Woods, California, 35mm

So, go somewhere. If you have kids, take them with. It doesn't have to be far at all or for a long period of time. Just a slight change of scenery will do. Drive forty-five minutes to a county park or free museum if that's all you can spare, but don't just sit at home thinking about it. 

Happy Travels!




Against the wind

Taken on expired Kodak HD 400 film, uncropped

"What are nuns doing on the beach on a cold, windy day?" my friend asked. "Good question!" I said. Then I asked myself, "what was I doing on the beach on a cold, windy day?"

They were probably doing the same thing I was, which was getting away from the places one might expect to find me, for some introspection and nature. Nothing more.  

I remember that day pretty clearly. I was mostly alone, except for the nuns and a couple with a dog. I sat on a naturally occurring dune chair for a while, staring at the frozen lake and thinking about the past that had brought me to this point. I made my peace with it,  saw the nuns, took a photo, and went home.