Small songbirds are starting to build nests in the tall pine snags as spring dawns in the southeastern US. Spring! Spring! And, so I leave my sweet island on February 21. I will be ready to roll after two months of easy winter life in Bama but will cherish memories of the two Mardi Gras parades, the taste of MoonPies, and the endless beach walks. Once I leave, I will head to the big, international quilt museum in La Grange, TX. Depending on the time it takes to cross TX, I will also stop at Big Bend National Park. After that, I have a reservation in Deming, NM starting March 1. From there, I will wait out the weather then start north. I have a reservation in Bonner’s Ferry, ID (near the Canadian Border), for the spring and summer.

As I develop my travel plans, I am reminded of the old movie “Endless Summer”. Several young surfers followed summer up, down, and across the globe, always searching for the perfect wave. In my case, this will be endless Spring. I will roll north just as spring rolls north unleashing bright red tulip displays.

I am also reminded of a book by naturalist Edwin Way Teale, “North with the Spring.” It is one of the books I re-read in recent years that slowly fired up my desire to live on the road. He also wrote, “Journey into Summer”, “Autumn Across America” and “Wandering through Winter”. Some of his words:

“Our minds, as well as our bodies, have need of the out-of-doors. Our spirits, too, need simple things, elemental things, the sun and the wind and the rain, moonlight and starlight, sunrise and mist and mossy forest trails, the perfumes of dawn and the smell of fresh-turned earth and the ancient music of wind among the trees.”

“The difference between utility and utility plus beauty is the difference between telephone wires and the spider web.”

But first, before I wander with Spring, I still have a train ticket to DC, so I am heading out this coming Saturday. A snow bird and Green Bay fan from Wisconsin who is in the campground here will take care of Tango. Through Airbnb, I found a room just outside DC on the Metro Line, and I will be bingeing on Smithsonian museums each day.

One of my most interesting discoveries while on Dauphin Island is why I love water so much. The the ocean, river, bays, estuaries, lakes. Heck, I love huge puddles after a rain squall. I am always drawn to water, especially when choosing a camping spot or a taking a day trip. I have never been athletic, but I love kayaking, canoeing, rafting, swimming, floating. Two days before my son was born, I was overwhelmed by the urge to sit in the American River (Sacramento) and let water flow over me. I remember sitting in a quiet eddy as the water soothed my heavy body and weary soul. Kerry, my son loved to fish, float, kayak, and swim too. While he was still in diapers and when we drove to one of my watery wonderlands –  Point Reyes National Seashore – he always tore off his clothes and pranced in the waves like a water sprite. Today, he keeps his clothes on (as far as I know) while he fly fishes the Spokane River.

The appeal of water to me? I know this sounds odd, but hear me out! I realized here that water is an emotional entity. All that energy in the waves and currents. Gray foamy water, crashing, flooding, destroying one minute then calm, soothing, nourishing the next minute. Deep ocean roars and trickling streams. Sudden crashing waterfalls and sleepy swamps. Water is alive with emotions, color, life, and energy, and I too feel alive when I am near water. Compare with cement cities, where I admit that I am intellectually stimulated but without a soul. It is the time I spend near and in the water that makes me feel whole. I am like that water in all its moods and when I am with it I am with a kindred soul.

On this journey, my next body of water will be the Rio Grande River along the Texas/Mexico border – probably a whisper of water until a flash flood wakes it up. As I head north and if the weather is cooperative, I will detour up to 8000 feet in the Colorado Mountains, where the spring thaw from the 14,000 foot peaks makes a spectacular sight and sound as it crashes down the waterways. In Idaho, I will be staying at a small park at the junction of two rivers. I will also be near Priest Lake, a happy place I discovered last summer. The future months are filled with water that bears witness to the changing seasons, to my own changing moods. It comforts or inspires while never judging.