Riding the bus through the mountains of Peru today, I saw the Pacific Ocean�s splendor underneath a beautiful setting sun. I couldn�t help but stare. This is a wonderful country to gawk at, and I�m glad I had the chance to pass through the endless sand dunes and sheer cliffs on the country�s shore.
When nighttime falls, the absolute darkness outside the windows still impresses me. No streetlights, no headlights, no signs of civilization. It�s the sense of the land being unspoiled by human development that I like, existing independently and unconsciously of us as if we didn�t even matter.
And when the fairytail-like twinkling of a new city finally comes into view, faraway, it fills me with a sense of anticipation for the experiences that�ll unfold there — the characters I�ll meet, the stories I�ll hear, the things I�ll learn.
This feeling of going to new places is akin to how I feel waking up before the sun rises, the realization that a whole life of unexpected moments exists ahead of me waiting to be discovered.
Being on the move, it�s easy to feel alive. Everything I see is so fresh. The downside is that those same places and people are so fleeting, and I barely have the chance to percieve them before they�re gone.
Currently in the town of Huacachina, another acquaintance on the road for me to glimpse for a short time, and only from the window.
