By Britt Schroeter
It’s been seven years since we sold our house and started our gypsy life. The one question everyone asks us is “In all of your travels, what is your favorite place?” Never once has a suitable answer come to mind. We have seen so much. I decided to reflect on an easier question. I broke down each sense and tried to isolate the sense. So, here we go: SMELL – Key West, Florida. Old Town. Near the cemetery. Around Ashe and Grace Streets. When you ride your bike between dusk to midnight it is so thick and still. It’s hard to describe. It’s overwhelmingly gardenia, roses, jasmine & honeysuckle. It’s like heaven opened up and spilled onto earth. It’s a smell that speaks to my very soul. I have no doubt that is what heaven will smell like. SOUND – The first night we were in a long-term spot, Breckenridge, Colorado I heard what I thought were children laughing. Then the laughing turned to cries for help. It took me a few very upset minutes to realize it was not children in need, but coyotes close by our site. That was the first of many, many nights I stayed up to listen to the coyotes. That night was the most violent. That night the coyotes were either being eaten or doing the eating. They had been working in a pack and business was at hand. Despite the death that I knew was going down, the sound mesmerized me. It’s the epitome of earth and nature that I have ever heard. When in the mountains, no matter the temperature I sleep with the window open near our bed, I don’t want to miss the coyotes. The most magical coyote night was when Bill and I were at Under Canvas in Yellowstone. We were in the valley surrounded by mountains on every side. The valley came alive, and you heard the coyotes calling to each other from every direction. There must have been dozens of them. It was the most beautiful chorus. It’s like the pangs of love speaking to your most inner primal being. It’s full of pain and love. TASTE – There is no place like home. Nothing beats late August, Maryland steamed crabs. Sweet, succulent, doused in in Old Bay. NOTHING. ANY WHERE. My very own Chesapeake Bay wins the best TASTE award. I miss you Maryland and you will always be my home. TOUCH – Redwoods National Park, Northern California. Running your hands along the bark of an ancient redwood you feel like you are touching history when dinosaurs roamed the earth and ruled the skies. Then you get distracted by the lushness of the leaves, with dew pouring from their tips. There are literal waterfalls that pour from the tree tops to feed the roots and earth. The cycle begins again. It’s alive, earthy, moist, smooth, rough. The richness of the soil under your feet. The never-ending growth everywhere you look. It’s God’s grace and abundance calling to your very being. It never fails. It is an amazing journey into the past and you can reach out and touch it. SIGHT – Bill and I have been looking for a mountain home to one-day call home. When we rolled into Telluride, Colorado for the first time… it brought tears to my eyes. It is the closest place on our hemisphere to the beauty of Switzerland. It’s the perfect terrain, the perfect valley, the prefect flora, the perfect temperature, the perfect peaks and rolling hills, the perfect renaissance cowboy town. If you have not seen it. Hang tight… you will have a place to visit in the not-so-distant future. It is with gratitude I reflect on these last seven years. It’s the capability to travel so easily and take in every sense that I am most grateful. The North America is full of beauty and magic. I am often in awe how quickly a terrain or eco system can shift. Our beautiful country is candy for the senses and a gift for our souls. I am grateful for my ability to travel and to use my senses to experience this great journey. Thank you to my traveling partner Bill Schroeter. What a journey it’s been.
