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Showing posts from July, 2016

It Is What It Is

A friend cut a trail, well several meandering paths, leading in and around a creek on his land. He and his wife were gracious enough to let me stay in their home while they vacation. They own two friendly dogs and some crazy cats and a beautiful piece of west Texas, if you can actually own such a thing as a part of west Texas.
I lost count of the number of times I’ve walked down to the creek on these trails in the last few days. The dogs walk with me. Actually, they trot beside me in between bursts of exploration. I look around and can’t see either one only to feel them brushing my legs moments later. The sweet smell of cedar and sage, the pink rimmed sunset above the oaks, the crunching grass under my feet, the singing cicadas, the swarming flies, the jumping grasshoppers, all of this fills me and calms me.
As I take a direction down one way and not another, I am reminded of the famous Robert Frost poem. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by.” Then I th…