A Sense of Vellichor

Airports were a highly conditioned location, so it didn’t make sense to me that I couldn’t stop sweating. Even as I stepped onto the plane at 7pm. Even as the plane soared through the air and city lights disappeared into the distance like stardust. Complete darkness surrounded the plane, and I couldn’t help but think of how the faint city lights beneath us looked like stars. I’d always loved the stars, and it was as though I was staring down at the sky rather than up. Little balls of light tinkered below and their resemblance to the stars was uncanny. I wondered if the similarity is what caused the heat to finally dissipate from my body and instead feel like warmth; the comforting kind of heat rather than the intrusive one. The rest of the night passed in a blur.

The next morning I woke up in a painting, or at least that’s what it felt like. Each scene carried more life than the last as we followed our tour guide around Tbilisi. Nearing the end of the day, I had walked more than I’d ever thought possible. Seven kilometers to be exact. My legs burned as though I’d stepped on a thousand heated needles, and my head spun from the lack of oxygen. We had been hiking, for the most part, and my lungs were opposed to the high altitudes… or was it the scenery that took my breath away? Everywhere I looked, nature spoke to me in technicolor. The grass and trees were lively, as though they had been stroked by a painter’s touch and were crafted to perfection. It was a sight unlike any other. I was so deeply entrenched in nature, I felt like a part of it. Georgia’s wilderness demanded to be seen.

The next three days melded together. In the blink of an eye, I was standing on the top of the Caucasian mountains and surrounded by snow. The abundance of snow nearly drove me blind. UV rays bounced off the white layers cascading down the mountains and attacked my eyes, leaving me discombobulated and cold. I’d never felt this type of temperature before. My body shivered and my limbs felt like they were on the verge of disintegrating from the blistering cold, yet my insides felt warm as if someone had set fire to my organs. It was paradoxical. Trees peeked out from beneath white sheets of snow, and I was enamored by the mystical scenery. Though I was in a different city, it felt as though I was still in the same painting… except, the artist had poured white paint across the canvas and found that the outcome was rather satisfactory.

After a six hour long bus ride, I was back at the airport far too soon for my liking. I longed to stay in Georgia and explore its beauty, but classes were set to start again tomorrow and I had no time. It was already 9pm. Time is a fickle thing, it ran out whenever it was needed the most. I stepped onto the plane with a sigh and found my seat. My gaze wandered out the window as we took off, and darkness wove around us. I stared into the darkness and a faint smile ghosted my lips. I found comfort in my seat moments before dozing off, only waking again just as the plane landed in Dubai.