Here's the thing about travel. It ends so quickly. You get back to where you came from and you try to recollect all those once-in-a-lifetime scenarios and it's hard...next to impossible. The attempt at memory breaks ya down to a mere moment in time - thinking/searching/remembering WHAT REALLY HAPPENED?
At least that's what happens to me. I'm trying to look back on my first pit stop from my latest jaunt - Puerto Rico - and what do I have. A few late-night drinks with a couple of nutcases; witnessing a great restaurant in the making; some crazy Chinese food while it poured warm rain; beer for breakfast; fearless attempts at Spanish; a moon so big it took my breath away; those gorgeous, free-thinking Dominican's; a chirpy Moroccan chef wanting to cook a feast for me; a thousand beautiful smiles; a will to move and move quickly.
In these moments there is intense beauty. In the aftermath, they're even richer because I will never get them back. Once - that's how often they happen. Just like life. My thought of the day? Don't fret the madness of life - you'll be gone soon enough.

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