One of my lifelong dreams is about to come true.  My family is embarking on an international trip together.  This alone would be incredible, but we are heading to Scotland and England, which, from family trees and now DNA technology we can confirm is where our genetic heritage hails from.  So, I am excited about some of my family members experiencing what I have experienced before, which is going to a place that all at once foreign and new and yet familiar, home.

As a thirty-six year old traveler I am seasoned.  My patience is high.  Things will go wrong.  We’ve built in down time and alone time so that people don’t become overwhelmed by being around the same people 24/7 for two weeks straight.  I am holding the ideas of what I want to do lightly, knowing that with a large group of people that there will be a mixture of wants and desires that are ever shifting and to express my wants but to enjoy things others want to do.

I am also apparently six and never been on a trip before because I am over this week already.  My mind is that of a senior in high school after spring break.  I know I have things to do, but my mind is no longer here.  I have senioritis big time, only the prize isn’t summer break, it is the cool, rolling hills of England.  It’s pubs with low ceilings with dark, wooden beams that were hewn ages ago.  It’s rivers and forests, and glens.  It’s architecture that spans before 1800.  It is time spent with loved ones.  I wan it to be friday now.  I am up for the slow torture of the airport and flying.  That’s the right of passage that makes arrival so grand.  This pre torture torture though is killing me.

I have purchased a dozen rolls of film, cleaned all my lenses and filters and cameras.  We’ve packed and repacked, and the only thing missing is you.  We may not be able to take you physically, but you will be on my mind.  I will be showing you what I see in the way that only I see it.

Nicholas Laning
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