Since I'll be traveling, I'll leave you with my favorite poem. It's especially apt since this post will go up at the moment my train is scheduled to leave Union Station.
"Travel" by Edna St. Vincent Millay:
The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing,
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
No matter where it's going.