boundless

Sunrise over the Sierra Nevadas

There is something wildly romantic about the swell of travelers at an airport terminal where lives and luggage collide in a beautiful frenzy. The airport heaves with every arrival and departure as  strangers all chase after the same sun.  There is incessant conversation that I am not a part of, laughter that is not mine, but this isolation is comforting.

So despite the queues, the woman in the security line who decided it was a good day to wear all the bangles, earrings, and necklaces to her name, the rabid children, and the people who give zero fucks about your personal space, I love airports. Doubly so if I'm there to board an international flight because international travel means entry into the coveted world of DUTY. FREE. SHOPPING. Here is where I will go to town with the La Mer cream and gawk at Ferragamo bags I can't buy and Hermes key fobs I will have no use for.

Until Rome!