I was going to write a book about travels. I was going to call it Travels.

I thought there would be enough to be a book. There already was. But then I thought, because I realized, that I’m still writing about them. I haven’t caught up with myself yet.

And then I thought and this either humbled or chastened me, that I’m still going places. I probably won’t run out before I run out.

So maybe it’ll just be the first edition of Travels to be followed by the second edition later.

And then I thought maybe I could branch out, be speculative, philosophical, explore how just going down to the corner of the street is like its own travel journey. And then, thinking further, how I don’t even have to leave the house. Going from room to room like the bathroom is a journey.

Even sitting in my chair, this very chair, I can let my mind wander. So many do.

That’s mind travel.

So that’s why I don’t have that book ready yet.

But, if you’ve been reading my blog, you’ve already read some of my travels.

Whatever that means or implies.