Van Life Reflection in the Moonlight
Traveling the van life, constantly taking in new surroundings, makes you sometimes wonder. Is the view of the moon the same from anywhere?
Back when The Husband and I were dating, we were living 3 hours apart, and one night he came to surprise me. Half asleep, I answered the phone, and he said, “you have to come outside and look at the moon”. Tired, and not really wanting to get out of bed, I asked why. “Just go look, I want to see if your moon looks like my moon”, he said. A little confused, but intrigued, I shuffled out the front door to look at the moon. And there he was, standing in my driveway. I wonder, if we often miss the good things that are waiting just outside for us.
The view of the moon is different from the van. Van life changes your perspective of the world.
Our views simplify, taking more notice of what’s real, and allowing the world’s natural beauty to come forth. We are more aware of our surroundings, the little things that make up a moment. The smell of smoke from a burning camp fire. The taste of salt in the air, when we are near the ocean. That first breath of sunshine filled morning air, when we open the van doors. How different it is to the morning air of a rainy day. Being so close to nature, we can’t help but find ourselves becoming a part of it. This opportunity is here everyday, all you have to do is choose to see it.
206 days on the road.
The continual state of exploration fueling the inspiration that moves this adventure onward. Exciting and fun, but even so, there are moments when splashes of mainstream living are missed.
I miss peeing barefoot.
Tiptoeing down a soft carpeted hallway, in the middle of the night, with one eye open. I know the route by heart, and can easily find my way, there and back, still half asleep. My senses subdued in a sleepy daze, knowing there is no possibility of passing another soul, or creature on this familiar route.
There are no glistening stars, or crashing waves blowing salted air against my skin, on the inside of that stationary home.
The temperature is neither hot nor cold, as the central air is permanently set to a comfortable 73.
From inside those solid unwavering walls, I have no awareness if the trees are rustling, which stars are shining, or what nighttime lullabies the bugs are singing through the moonlit shadows.
The outside world holds its nighttime secrets to itself, and I give it not a moments thought, easily slipping back into bed, without even having to dust sand from my feet.
Sometimes I think I want to go back to that home, and then I remember, I never did like inside very much. The moon seems to shine just a touch more, when I look at it from the van.