Cabin Fever

All my Solo friends are getting around
While my feet seem nailed to the ground
I faithfully follow their Facebook pages
And track their travels though all the stages.

I know where they stop and when they roam
While I'm stuck here, sick, at home.
I torture myself now every day
Checking to see where next they stay.

Camping at Mother of Ducks Lagoon
A magical place to be marooned.
Or on Kosciuszko's alpine track
Cool or cold with the wind at your back.

Heading off to yet another rally
Or exploring the lovely Hunter valley.
You can take off with the lift of a finger
Or settle down in a spot and linger.

The winter winds will make you shiver
Along the Murrumbidgee River.
Those in South Australia may stay
At Stony or Sandy or Streaky Bay

Camping by rivers and creeks and lakes,
A couple of days is all it takes
To establish yourself in the rustic peace
And settle again to a life of ease.

Then if the winds pick up or the sun's too hot
Your mobile home is all you've got.
Fold your table, toss your chair in the back
And once again, you hit the track.

The colourful names roll off your tongue
And memories of stories and tall tales spun.
Your visit here may be your last
Or you may be back when only days have passed.

So until I load the van and fire up the power
I get more envious by the hour.
Cabin Fever is almost impossible to treat.
It won't be cured till I drive off down the street.