by Karon -

My First Nomad-aversary: One Year of Going Alone

It’s already my first nomad-aversary!

One year ago, I sold almost everything I owned and set off to see what life might look like without a permanent home. I had joked about becoming a nomad for years, so by the time I finally started sorting through closets, drawers, and decades of accumulated stuff, I was emotionally ready.

Or so I thought.

It turns out that being ready to leave and actually deciding what to do with years of belongings are two very different things. Downsizing was more challenging than I expected, and there were definitely moments when I wondered what in the world I was doing.

But somewhere between leaving my old life behind and finding my way through seventeen states, I discovered something I hadn’t expected.

I didn’t just learn that I could live with less. I learned more about what I want more of.

More time with my family and friends. More forests and beaches. More wandering through small towns and lingering long enough to really get to know a place. More photography. More art galleries. More of those ordinary, beautiful moments that are easy to miss when life feels busy.

Madrid, New Mexico

None of these things are new loves. But this past year has given me the chance to make more room for them.

So, before I get too sentimental, I thought it would be fun to look back at year one of this adventure—the places I’ve been, a few favorites, what surprised me, and some of what this nomadic life has taught me along the way.

The Numbers:

  • seventeen states and one other country—all repeat visits
  • two Great Lakes
  • five lighthouses
  • eight beaches
  • one caldera
  • two national parks
  • seven state parks
  • seventeen Dambo Trolls
  • three desert communities
  • one lavender farm
  • twenty-six old churches
  • 48 things checked off from my 2025 List of Ideas (August–December)
  • 51 things checked off from my 2026 List of Ideas (January–August)

My Favorites:

  • Meal – surprisingly, Mexican food in Colorado Springs at Milagro’s Cocina Mexicano
  • Adventure – hiking to the Eternal Flames Falls in New York
  • Beach – Anna Maria Island, Florida
  • Small town – Manitou Springs and Golden, Colorado; Sackets Harbor and Ellicottville, New York. I had a hard enough time narrowing it down to four.
  • Seasonal thing – fall in New York
  • Old church – Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe, New Mexico

What Surprised Me:

  • how much I enjoyed meeting new people
  • how much I missed pine trees and forest walks while I was in the desert
  • how quickly a new place can start to feel familiar
  • how little I need to feel at home
  • how much I enjoy having nowhere particular to be
  • how tiring constant decision-making can occasionally be
  • how much confidence I’ve gained from figuring things out alone
  • how different it feels to live somewhere versus simply visit it

What I’ve Learned:

  • I cherish my time with family and friends more than ever
  • I need water in my life—whether it’s lakes, oceans, or rivers
  • apparently, I need pine trees too
  • I can trust myself more than I thought
  • confidence can grow quietly
  • talking to strangers isn’t nearly as scary as I once thought
  • I don’t have to know exactly what’s next
  • going alone doesn’t necessarily mean being lonely

I started my journey as a nomad with my son and his family in Texas, and I’m ending my first year with my daughter and her family back in North Carolina. Somehow, that feels like the perfect beginning and ending to this first year of the journey.

I love that this lifestyle has given me the flexibility to spend more time with family and friends, winter at the beach, wander through small towns, and really explore different areas. After one year as a nomad, I can honestly say it’s been a great first year.

I’m not making any travel plans just yet, but I have plenty of ideas for year two.

by Karon -

Wandering Through Niwot

I have always loved exploring—little antique shops, small towns, the outdoors. Antique shops had a certain mystery about them because you never knew what you might find. I still have an old perfume bottle that I bought in an antique shop when I was eighteen. It was in a small lavender box with all the wording written in French. At that point in my life I dreamed of visiting Paris and that little bottle was sort of a touchstone for that dream.

Fast forward a lot of years, and I have traveled to many destinations (not Paris yet). Somewhere along the way, our dreams change and evolve, and so it went with Paris. Italy became my love. I’ve visited twice and would still love to live there. But for now, I am content with my current plan. A slow nomadic lifestyle.

I still love to explore. I have realized with this current stay in Arvada, Colorado, that much of my exploring involves being outdoors. Whether it’s walking through a new small town or visiting a state park, I love to be out in the fresh air. This week also brought a few chilly, rainy days. I happily spent a couple of days curled up with hot tea, books, movies, and a fire in the fireplace.

Even though it was overcast with a chance of rain, I ventured out one morning to the sweet little town of Niwot. It almost felt like stepping back in time. Massive Plains Cottonwood trees lined the streets, making the town feel like a place that had quietly stayed true to itself for a very long time. All throughout town were large hand-shaped chairs painted in unique designs that invited visitors to stop and sit for a while. Bronze bears and foxes peeked out from behind a bush here and there in the landscaping near businesses. Flowers trailed from baskets on streetlights and window boxes on storefronts. Niwot quickly became one of my favorite small towns!

Osmosis Art Gallery was one of my first stops in town. I loved the idea of osmosis… soaking up inspiration and creativity just by being in the presence of the art. The process seemed to begin before I even entered the gallery. There were all kinds of whimsical art pieces on the lawn, including two of the large hands that I had seen throughout town along with brightly colored whimsical birds and flowers. The gallery was full of eclectic art with everything from paintings, to pottery, to handmade soap and jewelry. Just the kind of fun, quirky gallery that I love!

As I walked into Wise Buys Antiques in the historic district, a bell chimed. I slowly walked through the shop hoping to find some little thing that I just had to have. I wanted to collect something from this little town that I had been so charmed by. I looked at the pink depression glass and thought of my Aunt Jewel. I think hers had been green. I was suddenly reminded of all of the delicious meals at her house as a kid. I love how just seeing an item can produce a sweet memory. I picked up a well-worn Nancy Drew book and flipped through it thinking of how I had loved to read these books when I was about ten. I wondered how many hands had held this particular book. I didn’t find anything that I could justify adding to the bins and suitcases I travel with and decided to wander on to the next shop.

My next stop before wandering back to my car was The Little Bird. Another great little shop! While browsing the unique clothes and gift items, I chatted with the owner about the pronunciation of Niwot and what had brought him to town. I thought about how this little town was really close to my perfect town. I found a little gift for a friend and then went back out into the cool air.

As I returned to my car, I thought about how at eighteen, exploration had looked like dreaming about faraway places and collecting little reminders of where I hoped life would take me. These days, I seem to find just as much joy wandering through small towns, noticing tiny details, and allowing myself to move a little more slowly through the world.

by Karon -

From the Coast to the Hill Country: Leaving Before You’re Ready

As I drove past Boerne, I began to see the hills. I almost felt I was seeing the area for the first time (even though we lived in this area for years). The hills looked hillier. Maybe it was the contrast from being by the sea for two months. I was struck by the thought of how we grow so accustomed to the things in our daily life that we don’t even see it anymore. Being more observant is a gift that comes with this nomadic lifestyle. I feel more awake and in tune with my surroundings.

The drive had seemed long, but I was now in the last hour. I thought of how I had not really been ready to leave Rockport. I had hesitated to begin packing as if that would delay the inevitable. There was a painting class coming up that I really wanted to take at the end of March. There was a volunteer opportunity at the Little Theater starting in a few days. I never made it over to the uninhabited island for shelling. I didn’t take a boat tour. How had I let these things slip by? I had packed and loaded anyway.

I have discovered with travel there are always things left undone. The more places you explore in one area, the more you realize you want to do. I found this in Vicenza. I found this in Japan. The more you learn and really live in an area, the more things you uncover that tourists miss. Somewhere along the way, maybe while I was living in Japan, I began to slow down. To really explore the hidden and off-the-beaten-path kind of places. No, now that I think of it, I think it may have begun in North Carolina with the little coastal towns.

Whenever it began, I really developed a love for just driving to a destination with a few things on a list to see and then meandering through the town and stopping when something caught my eye. Many times it would be something that I just absolutely had to photograph.

Now I am beginning a month in Fredericksburg. I will spend time with my mom. Take her outside and talk about the trees beginning to bud out and the birds. We will decorate a little for Easter and have some quiet meals together. I will structure in time for me as well. Time to walk on Cross Mountain. Maybe I will get a temporary membership at the gym. I will try to find a couple of opportunities to listen to live music. Maybe I will even brave that alone. Meandering through some art galleries is a must. And hopefully the wildflowers will start blooming while I’m here.

Even though I really wasn’t ready to leave the coast and I loved my time there, I am learning that I rarely leave a place because I am finished. I leave because it is time. And each time I go, I begin building a small rhythm in the new place — a favorite walking path, a cozy coffee shop for chai tea, a few quiet rituals — knowing that before long I will feel the tug to move again. Perhaps the ache of not being ready is simply proof that I was fully there. As I top a hill, the cross on Cross Mountain comes into view.