braveheart

My mother and I are on the trip of a lifetime and I am doing a terrible job documenting it in writing. I am doing a better job documenting it in photographs, so I will not worry so much that I am failing at one thing.

So far we have experienced all we could of Prague, and continue on the adventure with a comprehensive tour of the UK. All I ask for is to hear the music of bagpipes on the hills of Scotland. I fear I will hear much more unpleasant things before I have such joy. Yet the sounds of trains and of airplanes and of noise in city streets and of Irish accents and of crowds in London should be enough to tide me over until then.

This travel has been wonderful and I do already miss home. Missing home after being gone so short a time is a strange feeling for me. I am not so sure what to do with the feeling but to be glad that I am growing right where I am on Michigan soil. I am so glad to see more of the world and so glad to have some place to go home to.