Yesterday I went for an afternoon walk in my Denver neighborhood, as I often do, as I will soon do in places other than Denver. On my street I saw a man with a beard, a pack, and a bedroll attached to the bottom--an urban camper. This wasn't the first time I had seen him, but it struck me: I'm about to be more like him than I am like my "normal" or current self, living in a snug little garden level apartment.
Or am I? I'm going to be staying indoors, at places with kitchens, bathrooms, and beds. I'm going to spend a significant amount of money on lodging. I'll be very comfortable; bougie, one might say.
But the feeling of not having a home, the feeling of wandering, walking, not staying in one place for too long. That's what I'll have in common with this man. The feeling of traveling, of visiting, of not quite assimilating. The feeling of packing all your possessions into a form convenient for moving along. And not having a home base.
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