Travel Tales from the Green Quail

As I write this, I am flying across the Tasman Sea in a Boeing 777 on a quest to spend a year abroad discovering myself as an adult. My destination: Melbourne, Australia. I plan to spend anywhere from a few months to a year in Australia, traveling and working. Finances permitting, I’ll use Australia as a springboard to visit other countries–India, Israel and Europe (which, I suppose is a continent) are at the top of my list.

A note about the name of this blog: I have a vivid childhood memory of seeing an exotic, iridescent green bird appear beneath a bush in my very mundane,  suburban backyard. It had a short tail and a plume on its head, so I called it “The Green Quail,” even though it was probably an escaped peacock from the neighbor’s coup.  I would have forgotten all about, had I not glimpsed it once more during a pivotal moment of my life. To be quite honest, I was sitting on the roof of my parents’ house having a nervous breakdown; I’d just emerged from horrendous panic and I was serenely surveying my street in an almost meditative state, when The Green Quail emerged from a juniper and jetted down the pavement, somewhere between dream and reality. Ever since that moment, the quail has become a very personal symbol of the extraordinary that rests within the ordinary–and, more importantly, of beauty, mystery, and clarity of mind. And so, I’ve chosen to dedicate this blog to the Quail, in the hope that it will guide me through my adventure.

I’ve made two promises to myself in regards to how I structure my trip:

1. Be open and flexible to all experiences. Live in the moment and don’t get attached to future plans.
2. Write every day. Capture as many stories as possible–and don’t be afraid to ask the hard questions.