There is a vastness in this world I’ve longed to explore—where the sky meets the earth, and the peaks kiss the clouds. My path stretches across mountains and valleys, from the lush rainforests of Washington to the glacial wilderness of Alaska, through the majestic Rockies and the sacred lands of Alberta. I will follow this calling, as if guided by the wind, driven by the need to roam, to see, to breathe in the wonder of the world in its most untouched state. Each place I visit will not merely be a destination, but a moment of transformation, where the land becomes a part of my journey.

Wyoming to Montana My journey begins in Wyoming, a land as rugged as my spirit. I will ascend the peaks and roam the open plains, a perfect place to test the endurance of my wings. From there, I will glide north into Montana, its vast wilderness offering sanctuary in its endless skies and untamed forests. The air will be crisp, the mountains standing proud—my first moments of freedom.

Washington and Oregon Heading west, I will find myself immersed in the rainforests of Washington, a place where nature thrives in perfect harmony. The towering evergreens will remind me of my own growth, reaching ever upward. Oregon’s coastal beauty will be next, where I can fly over the Pacific, feel the salt in the air, and lose myself in the rhythm of the waves.

The Call of British Columbia and Alberta Crossing into Canada, British Columbia will welcome me with its mystical rainforests and towering peaks. Here, I’ll land in the silence of the wilderness, where even the air feels ancient. In Alberta, the Rocky Mountains will test my strength, offering me a place to sleep among the clouds, resting on peaks that few have touched.

The Travel Suit For this journey, I will need more than just wings—a suit that is engineered for absolute efficiency. This suit will act like a transparent second skin, nearly invisible, revealing the underclothes beneath. It will hug my form, flexible yet durable, providing me with full mobility while remaining as discreet as the air itself.

Despite its appearance, the suit will be far from fragile. It will be bulletproof, explosion-proof, and capable of withstanding the harshest conditions. Whether I’m flying through freezing winds or blazing sunlight, it will regulate the temperature, keeping me at the perfect balance no matter where I go.

By being almost entirely invisible, the suit blends seamlessly into any environment—ensuring that it is barely distinguishable, except for my clothing beneath. It’s more than a protective layer; it’s the ultimate tool for moving efficiently through both the skies and the landscape below.

The Capsule of Solitude For my moments of rest, I envision a capsule—a sanctuary that travels with me wherever I go. This capsule, like something out of a dream, will be compact, yet when deployed, it will expand into a home on any peak or valley I choose. The walls will be invisible but as strong as a forcefield, keeping me safe from the outside world. The temperature inside will always be perfect, a place of comfort no matter how wild the weather becomes.

Inside, everything I need will be provided—food, water, and a bathroom, all powered by magic and technology that respond to my presence. Light will turn on only when I need it, preserving the purity of the night sky so I can sleep under the stars. This capsule will allow me to live on the highest peaks, above the clouds, where the world is quiet, and the stars feel close enough to touch.

The Endless Journey From Wyoming to Montana, across the Pacific Northwest and into Canada, my travels will take me to some of the most breathtaking places on earth—places where the land is still wild, where mountains stand tall and rivers run free. I will sleep on high peaks, watching the sun set over distant horizons, and wake to the sound of nothing but the wind.

And when I am ready, I will continue my journey—to Alaska, to Europe, to the edges of Asia. The world is vast, and there is so much more to see. I will travel not for the destination but for the beauty of the unknown, for the joy of flight, and for the freedom to explore.

In every moment, I will live fully—gliding through the air, resting on mountains where only the birds dare go, and discovering the secrets of the earth with my wings at my back and the endless sky above me.

  • wurzelgummidge@lemmy.world
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    3 months ago

    Oh, the traveller moving on the land, behold I give you, I give you the travelling man.

    And he’s very heavy laden with the questions in his burden.

    Lo, and I give you the travelling man.

    He has crossed the mountains, he has forded streams.

    He has spent a long time surviving on his dreams.

    Many times he’s tried to lighten up his heavy load.

    But his compromises fail him and he ends back on the road.

    .

    Oh the traveller he is weary, the travelling man he is tired.

    For the road is never ending in his fear he has cried aloud for a saviour

    And in vain for a teacher, someone to lighten up the load

    And he’s heard the sounds of war in a gentle shower of rain

    And the whisperings of despair that he could not explain.

    The reason for his journey, or the reason it began

    Or was there any reason for the travelling man.

    .

    At last he reached a river so beautiful and wide

    But the current was so strong he could not reach the other side

    And the weary travelling man looked for a ferryman strong enough to row against the tide,

    And the ferryman was old but he moved the boat so well,

    Or did the river move the boat? The traveller could not tell.

    Said the ferryman, "You’re weary and the answers that you seek,

    Are in the singing river, listen humbly it will speak."

    .

    Oh, the traveller closed his eyes and he listened and he heard

    Only the river murmuring and the beating of his heart.

    Then he heard the river laughing, and he heard the river crying

    And in it was the beauty and the sadness of the world

    And he heard the sounds of dying, but he heard the sounds of birth

    And slowly his ears heard all the sounds of earth.

    The sounds blended together and they became a whole

    And the rhythm was his heartbeat to the music his soul.

    .

    And the river had no beginning, as it flowed into the sea

    And the seas filled the clouds and the rains filled the streams

    And as slowly as the sunrise, he opened up his eyes

    To find the ferryman had gone, the boat moved gently on the tide.

    And the river flowed within him, and with it he was one

    And the seas moved around the earth, and the earth around the sun.

    And the traveller was the river, was the boat and ferryman,

    Was the journey and the song that the singing river sang.

    .

    • Ralph McTell
    • DaddysLittleSlut@lemmy.worldOP
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      3 months ago

      Ah, but these travels are not merely the footsteps of a wanderer, nor the path of a soul seeking its own reflection. No, they are threads spun from the web of existence itself—delicate, yet unbreakable, stretching like silver lines drawn across a boundless sky. Each mile, each horizon I chase, is a ripple in the great sea of being, where all things converge, unseen yet always felt. We are but whispers on the wind, shadows cast by the same flickering flame, dancing upon the stone of a world adrift in the vastness. What is the journey if not a bridge between us, a golden thread binding the mountains to the stars, the roots to the heavens?

      Once, I believed my wings were my own, formed by hands unseen, meant to carry only my weight. But like the tree that grows toward the sun, I have come to know that my rise is not mine alone. For in each feather lies the echo of a thousand voices, in each beat of my heart the murmur of rivers long forgotten. These gifts, once tightly held, are no longer bound by my grasp, for they are but reflections of the sky itself, meant to catch the light and scatter it to all who dwell in shadow.

      I fly not for the sake of height, nor for the beauty of the view, but to carry with me those who have forgotten the sky, to weave their dreams into the air. I am not the wind, but I am its song. Not the earth, but the echo of its call. I am the river, flowing both within and beyond, for we are all but travelers on this endless sea, and our course is written not in the stars, but in the hearts of those we touch.