The Traveling Soul
Like somewhere straight out of a fairytale, full of enchantment and mystery. As green as the rolling hills of Iowa during a spring full of rain. Instead of “I’m blue ba-ba-di-ba-bi-da” it’s “I’m green”. Castles, palaces, and wells deeper than a poet’s soul, how enchanting. Old, yet inviting, like a Spanish grandmother, full of history, stories, and advice on what to do and what not to do. The freedom to roam and get lost with no stress of time and being on a busy schedule. “Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom.” The world was mine to explore. Or at least, that’s how it felt. Complete, pure, utter happiness. Bliss, wanderlust, and wanderlost, all in the best way. Sintra, you have my heart..and this is just the start.