Jocelyn Curry

When I was 20, I took a quarter off from my studies at the University of Washington to study the Mexican arts and crafts in San Miguel de Allende. While there, I invited a friend to come visit. Her reply? To chastise me for flaunting my privileged life of travel. This remark came as a shock, as I was born into not a family of wealth but into one where investing in travel was paramount. To this day, I am frugal in most areas of my life, choosing to reserve income for two things: supporting my family and traveling. However it may appear from the outside, to me, traveling is as essential to my being as food is to my body.

So it was particularly fabulous (I'm trying to think of a better word) when both a long-time friend and a cousin invited me to come visit them at their snowbird homes in Florida, a place I had never been to and a place that distinctly contrasts where I live in Washington state. A long, diagonal flight has taken me to the SW coast of Florida for the past three Februaries now, thanks to their repeat invitations. To explore a new place with people I love, but rarely get to spend time with, is a keenly treasured experience for me. Of course it doesn't hurt that in February, escaping the gray damp of Seattle is an opportunity I would be crazy to decline.

I would have to confess to my friend from long ago that I think I now know what it feels like to be privileged. My current friend and my cousin have literally and graciously given me these travel experiences. Yesterday, while driving alone on roads through quintessentially Pacific Northwest scenic byways, I pondered all of this, and felt filled with gratitude.

Last week, I was here on the Lighthouse Beach on Sanibel Island, Florida (click on photos for a full view).

Yesterday, I photographed this breathtaking view from a parking lot in Darrington, Washington. I was on my way to a site visit for a new map design job, and was struck by the contrast between where I dwelled last week, and where I live most of the year.