the journey

We're heading up to Mt Buller tonight. One of the many things I love about it is the drive. There's a soundtrack in my head for certain stretches of road when i'd drive up after uni each week, and a different one for a couple of years later when Marcus and I would use our days off to drive home from Buller and work on the house we were building.

These days with city jobs and a commuter lifestyle, driving home past endless green paddocks, little country houses and rolling hills is cathartic. As I fantasise at the laid-back pace of life in the towns that dot the main road, I often entertain the idea of living a simpler existence, but quickly convince myself i'd be bored out of my brain.

But would I really? is this kind of reaction just a symptom of living life at a pace where we think in weeks or months, not days, always focusing on that next thing in the future?

(photo by me, 2008)