The difference five months makes. This is the trail that runs next to the house.
Last time on this blog, the area was covered in snow; now, it’s green with vegetation. Or, as one commenter put it: lush. This Monday, I was a bit annoyed with the stagnation in the house— being unable to deal with the squirrel that’s in our roof, for one; I stormed out.
I soon returned to grab the iPhone to take some pictures of the trail for the day.
Every now and then, we see the world catching up with itself in little ways, in turbulence and neglect, overwhelm and falling behind— a cycle of too fast and not fast enough until things meet up, in resolution or not. Because the world doesn’t live as one, and in my mind it’s not supposed to. (Sorry, John.)
Life will find a way. …Even if placed or seeded in a completely artificial environment.
So, the last time I hit the trail near the house, on the day Maine-native Anna Kendrick’s Scrappy Little Nobody was scheduled to be released, I discovered another path connected to the large clearing. The first time I visited the clearing, it was starting to get dark (around sunset, plus rain) and I was only passing through, so I missed this path.
The precipitation had begun to pick up again Tuesday, so I put on my L.L. Bean cap. There was a noticeable decline in elevation, before hitting a split… or fork. Or…
There may be an infinite number of things we can do or ways to do them in life, but we only walk the paths we are ready to walk. We are not meant to walk them all. Or even see them all.
Sometimes we can become so buried in our work that we lose parts of the big picture. We can busy ourselves to exhaustion or pretend to avoid confrontation or danger (such as having a smartphone in front of us, or earbuds in to bore others), or to avoid pain… But life isn’t meant to be lived in a bubble. We are meant to feel, and do what scares us every now and then. We aren’t ants or plants; we are human beings.
Now, if there’s anyone who’s lived under a rock, it’s me. And I mean, I have nothing, nada, zip figured out from experience. The main reason why I can’t really write a novel is because my own living story is so empty. I am Exhibit A for someone who hasn’t done anything with his life.
However, since 2012, I have opened up to opportunity quite a bit. …Of course my methods have been awful as opportunity most always doesn’t return my calls. I’ve been reaching out to strangers, sometimes with my heart on my sleeve. Lots of failure.
Still, the people I’ve met these past four years have changed my life in ways big and small. I’m trying new things, attempting to socialize more, even if the results are not great. The Saturday group, for example— I learned things I couldn’t have possibly learned not going. Continue reading Paths undiscovered→
With so many trees, come so many leaves in the fall. And varying shades of blue from the bluish rain clouds are seen in the water collected on such leaves.
Because it was raining Thursday, I didn’t expect anyone to be out. That helped as far as my courage went, in case I actually was trespassing… Our southern neighbor kids (now adults) have driven small vehicles down this path. Now, from all the seasonal winds, there are plenty of fallen branches to dodge. And, like the woods at Crescent Beach park, some of the ground was mushy.
Half past five, the sun was setting, and… it was my first time down this way, so I didn’t catch any small clearing areas along the path. (I wasn’t really paying attention anyway.) But eventually, I reached a large clearing.