The quote in this meme especially caught my attention. A writer wanders. And a once-lost story finds a home. I love that thought.
Are you a wanderer? I am.
I wander by foot, by plane, by bicycle and car. I meander through the house, the woods, the store, through cities and towns near and far.
You don’t have to go anywhere particular to be a wanderer. You can mosey in your yard, in your house, or across the ocean. Whatever way you stroll, wherever you roam stories will find you.
In fact, sometimes you don’t have to leave your front porch. Or, at least, that’s been my experience.
Once, sitting in a Dublin train station, an older woman sat beside me and began to share stories of her family and her country. She told me she was returning home after being with her daughter, who had given birth to their twelfth grandchild. Another grandson, she said with pride in her eyes. Yes, there were pictures and lovely stories as only the Irish can spin.
Another time, a young woman waiting behind me in the grocery checkout line patted the multi-colored headscarf she wore. “Chemo,” she said. Her eyes misted. I couldn’t stop myself I squeezed around my full cart of groceries and gave her a hug. She began to share her journey with breast cancer.
My dogs and I go for walks daily. Last summer a little girl playing outside one of the rental cabins nearby ask to pet the dogs. My Old English is old and well socialized. He loved on her. The Maltese jumped around all jealous then relaxed when she petted him too. As we walked away, the youngster plucked a purple wildflower and rushed over to give it to me.
Buried in each of those encounters, and so many more, are lost stories waiting to be told.
What about you? Do you come upon stories in your wanderings?