Traveler

His flight left at 12:45pm, which meant that by 10am he was entering the doors of the airport, passport clutched in hand and his backpack behind him, secure on his shoulders.

After completeing the check-in he felt a nervous energy tingle through him. He was going to fly, he was going to leave the country! It was only a 10 day trip, but here at the start he felt it stretching out before him like infinity, full of possibility. He had another hour before preliminary boarding and so he wandered, taking in the people around him, fellow travellers speaking languages he didn't recognize, toting carryons and bags and rolling luggage of all colors and sizes. 

He thought he might have a coffee before he left, and consulted the terminal map hanging on the wall to find the nearest coffee shop. Five minutes and many gates later he stood and searched the drink menu, frowning slightly as he noted the prices. How could they charge so much for a simple coffee? Those extras cents could go toward bus fare, or another coffee somewhere in another country...so he turned and went across the terminal to the little everything shop, where they charged only one dollar for a regular coffee.
With his drink in hand he made his way back down to his gate, his walk slow and his eyes fast. People flowed all around him, and from time to time he caught the sharp words of a language different from his own.

He admired the trim chinos and pressed shirt of a man sitting and reading a newspaper, black carry-on parked beside him. He admired the patience of a mother as she put on her toddler's coat in the line to board thier flight, tugging little arms through sleeves. He admired the colorful energy of a group of teenagers sitting on the floor in a corner, engrossed in thier converstaion and eyes and fingers moving nimbly over thier electronics. He admired the frailty of an old woman being pushed ahead of an attendant in a wheelchair, her luggage clutched in her lap and her worn brown loafers peeking out from beneath her long blue skirt. How wonderful that she was still able to travel at her age! He smiled and silently wished her well, hoping that he could still make trips when he was as old as she.

Arriving back at his gate he chose a seat, wedged between a casual businessman and a young woman who looked too fashionable to be flying economy. He took a hot sip and paused to dig his journal out of his backpack, fishing a pen from his pocket. With steady strokes he wrote the date and his flight information, consulting his ticket. He wrote his destination, the name of his contact. The journal held other entries just like this from previous destinations: Rome, New Zeland, Alaska, Mexico, Amsterdam, Tokyo... Where were all of these people going? What had brought them together to make the trip across so many miles in a plane full of strangers, to entrust thier lives to a machine made of metal with wings?
He couldn't help but shake his head as he thought of the miracle of flight, sending silent thanks to the brothers that authored air travel.

Yes it was only a 10 day trip, but for a traveler it was an open journey into the unknown and held all the wonder and excitement of a first kiss, a first ride, a first flight...
As the attendants finally began boarding he smiled and stood up, stretching arms and legs before stowing pen and journal, putting the backpack on his shoulders, anxious and excited to be starting a new adventure.