First, let me admit it— my blog has never really been about travel. Yes, I travelled, but even a post about the row houses of an English town or driving in India turned into an essay on national character. Many of my posts are deeply personal reflections on my heart, my life and the state of the world.
I follow a lot of travel bloggers, though, and have seen them tackle the world-wide lock-downs in many ways.
Some have simply disappeared. Others write from a backlog of trips that have not been featured yet. I know a few personally and I have always been amused at the time lag between where I know they are, and where they seem to be from their blogs and Instagram accounts.
Those who make their livings from their blogs, or whose writings are promotion for guided trips, are pivoting to on-line offers and classes: mediation, self-development, photography, and even how to write a blog! The ones with merchandise and clothing lines are hoping for sales.
And me? Although sometimes I will pick a theme, such a water, and draw examples from different trips, a location I write about is always the one I am in right at that moment, or at least in that week.
So today the pictures come from the little corner that is my world, almost all the time, almost every day. The little moments of serenity that I used to snatch and savour— enjoying a pastry in a Jerusalem cafe, watching a sunset from the backwaters in Kerala— are now elongated and take up much of my day. I think of all the occasions where I wished I had more time and realize I truly have that now.
My body is still, but my heart is still making brave travels.
Brave Travels 