The searching bird.

I have been wondering whether or not to share some of the more mystical parts of my travels, put to screen glimpses of the circles and circumstances I knock around with, when I'm not parenting, in transit or immersing my self in nature or craft, or what ever it is again I do.

I think instead, I will bombard this entry with pictures and tell you that most of my time has been spent juggling children, fire breathing art and hoola hooping my mind into meditation.

Ready to pounce from my lips is a proverbial travel with children vent. 

I have a lot to say about traveling with kidlings and I suspect by the end of these adventures if they do ever end, I will be as close to an expert in the field as any other.

I could write a rather thick account on the trials and tribulations of my time as a modern gypsy mama. 

The exasperated look mothers are renowned for, features more than once a hour day at the tricky sticky circumstances of my traveling circus family.

But as a new week dawns with fresh, more chilled out experiences, I would rather focus on moving along softly and emerging from the period in time, just a little wiser to the beat of the road.

 but before I do that...

Travel with children is all about preparation, one is out and about ever so much, that the art of packing, planning and anticipating how individual and combined energies may take flow that day, is on par with a future tellers apprenticeship… needless to say, click in intuition or sink like a stone, yes!

 A pile of pebbly exhausted children and flabbergasted parents.

sink, sink, sunk!

With a stream of the never ending adventures and all the inner expansion and understanding that travel evokes comes a vulnerability and sensitivity, that can't quite be explained until one has undertaken it. Comfort zones must be found within.

The initiation period of these first 3 months of nomadic journey, has me feeling at times like a bird in flight across the vast ocean, looking to find land, looking to settle, although knowing that this is not what we set out to do...

 Only now am I starting to feel the world under my feet, and have a sense that my nest doesn't really need to be tied to one tree. 

I guess, this is where reality meets the dream... and I am coming into the union. I am earning my boots, of course still enthusiastic… although fair to say, with a scar or two and the ironic need for a holiday.

Part 3 of the Postcard series!

1 and 2 here