A Wanderer's Wonderings

I fully plan on writing a longer, more explicative post once I'm at home and on a computer, but this is the first time I've travelled (besides short road trips) since I got home.  I am going by train today through the lush and decrepit countryside of the South. I love this journey. I've taken it many times, through many different bits and pieces and everytime I appreciate this area's rich rail-connected history more.
I am sitting in the station, waiting for my train and looking around at the travel posters and the brochures and wanting so much to be able to do this more often. Travel is something I'm used to, something I have worn well: I think I could make a career of helping people who haven't discovered the nuances and tricks to some of these experiences. I would say I could do it easily but I am not naive enough to think fate won't send me a lovely gift of strife if I do.
I've done an entire post before on Samantha Brown. For good reason. She is kind of a hero of mine. In fact, for much of my life I have been loathe to name a hero when people ask that most basic ice breaker. Why should I idolize someone else? Am I not good enough to be my own person? But I get it now and I have more heroes than any person comfortable in their own skin should have. Paul Theroux and Anthony Bourdain and a few other weary travelers making up a large portion of them. I love it. Wholly.
I have recently begun to become a cliche, garnering a love for that all too familiar heroine Carrie Bradshaw, but I admire her writing. I don't know if in her mythos she went to or graduated from college, yet she gets to write about things she loves and explore her world as a career. More and more I pick up a newspaper and think, in the dulcet tones of Mr. Urkel, "Could I do that?"

Christmas

I love Christmas.  The soft light that seems to emanate from the tree itself coming from the corner.  The smiles on everyone's faces.  The smell of cinnamon and cloves, and nutmeg, and every other delicious treat my dad designs.  The soft words in the evening as we come together on Christmas Eve to read our family books - each of us reads our favorite.  The candlelight service at church, where we join in with our distant family and sing the same carols being sung in almost every church or home in the country.  It is a time of softness and gentleness with other people and a time where love comes together between not just my family members but so many people I don't even know around the world.  It is something that grounds me and makes me feel like I am glowing, just like that Christmas tree in the corner.

I feel so incandescent at Christmas, whether it be from strings of lights, from reflective balls of color, or from the plethora of glitter dusted all over and around me.  I feel like there are treasures inside my heart to be saved just for this day.  Some to be ripped open with hearty enthusiasm and others carefully unwrapped and taken out the same way they were put in.  I feel like there are people surrounding me, daily, waiting to be with me when we are not together, excited to see me shining so bright and beautiful.  They don't even need to acknowledge their desire to be near me, but I can feel them looking at me, curious to see what detail they missed the first time they saw me or to find out how I have changed since the last time I was done up this way.

I have a few fleeting glances of Aberystwyth at Christmas: when the air is cold and the wind packs a punch.  I will forever love that little town and the way it felt like home, but for now, I am only left with the snapshots I was able to catch with my camera.

There are a few pictures here from my walk up Consti, and a couple from wandering around the Christmas-lit streets at night: I hope you enjoy.

Y Lleuad

Cylch y Lleuad

I've felt a little moonstruck lately.  I could blame it on the full moon tonight: it is bewitchingly beautiful.  It could also partially be because I have been a night owl these past few days; waking up at 1 PM and not going back to bed until 4 AM.  Crazy, right?

But I have also had a lot on my mind: stirring, mixing, bubbling.  I had my final essays for the semester due today, and now that they are out of the way I can move onto the other things keeping my brain from turning off.  It all has to do with going home soon.  I have 18 days, which really isn't much the way these days have been flying by.  I wish I had more time here to explore and wander and bask in the glow of this country's beauty.  But I don't.

In fact, I only have 18 days.  I have been thinking about this a lot - since the moment I applied to come here, actually.  I have to return to Alabama next semester.  I have to take a full load and catch up on the classes I have missed, this semester and the last.  It is so hard for me to say that, but it must be said.  I know I will be homesick for Aberystwyth and all that I could do here if I were to stay 5 more months, but I know, too, that I am homesick here and in constant worry about graduation next year.

On a side note: I think I will be homesick.  I am a wanderer.  Everywhere I go I hide little pieces of my heart and every time I leave I forgot where to go to find them and take them with me.  I have so many homes, and so much heart to give, I know that I am not settling anytime soon, not in Alabama, not here, not in Georgia or California or anywhere else.  I love them all.

Apologies.  But there is much to do and many to email to get squared away before I go back.  It is actually terrifying. I have no housing, no classes, and no way to take my exams for this semester (they happen after Winter Break here).  God has given me the strength so far to not worry about this and to stay firm in knowing what I need to do.  I think that is one of the many things I have learned by being here and I am so thankful for all the lessons: I needed them, desperately.  I knew that there was purpose in my coming here and that is why I made the decision to come, against all academic logic.  I can not express the wealth of emotions that are roiling up inside me, but that is the beauty of the situation.  I would rather regret leaving a place out of love than want to run from it so fast and so hard that I got lost in my panic.

Once things are more fully set out and lined up I will post more on my decision and my time in Aberystwyth. Thank you guys for following me in this journey and I hope that you will continue with me as I prepare to depart and, perhaps, even further.

Love y'all,
Jessa

P.S. "Y Lleuad" means "the moon".

Scotland

For this trip, I will only post these few words: I loved it, when do I get to go back?
Note: I recommend clicking on the first picture and slideshowing this post.