Travel

We used to travel a lot. But since the middle of last year everything stopped. Before that many people used to visit us but that has also stopped.   I don't understand why it is like that but then there's something good that happened with that change. Before that Mom and Dad would lock me up and leave for work. But now they don't do that. They stay at home most of the time. I love that. I don't like to travel when they shut windows of the car and cool air comes through those two holes. I want the cool air and the windows open. But then if I could choose then I would prefer to have the windows open. Cool air is good but I can do without that. The intoxicating aroma of outside as the car travels is just so intriguing and interesting. It's like being a bibliophile and then finding yourself in a huge library. The outside world as it rolls by is a library of smells - exotic, common place, fresh, rotten, cooked, on heat, dying, born, made, unmade and so many others without a conture and inbetween the well defined. But I don't like windings of the hilly roads. As the car rolls, everything inside me also rolls. Mom used to sit beside Dad and I would sit on her lap. On her lap the rolling didn't feel that bad for she would hold me and keep me steady. But then I grew too big for her lap. Mom now sits in the back while I sit beside Dad. This photograph was taken when I was small and when we went up the hill to a place which was very grassy and quite cold.