I was tired of walking—really, trudging is what it had become.
I guess I was just tired…Sunday afternoons are made for resting aren’t they? The sun had lured me out the door but my energy was flagging…a cold coming on perhaps?
So I turned off the beaten track and settled myself on a little rise amongst the barren poplars…overlooking the sea just beyond–
And I pulled out my new book of Robert Frost’s poems (on my Kindle, of course)…and I just sat there warmed by sunshine, lulled by a trickle of water close by, and browsed among neatly laid lines of words for awhile, and read—of roses, and hayfields, of woods, and of butterflies, sorrow and love. I’ve always like Frost’s way of putting things.
And I sat silent for awhile, wordless and content to have found a spot to soak in sun.
Eventually, treading my way home, I turned aside at the little abandoned quarry—a pocket of water and silence. Louie used to stop here for a drink on our walks. It’s been a long while.
I was wishing I were home already. Tired of walking. Tired of old tired roads.
A little further along I saw a track uphill I had never noticed before. Who can resist a new trail to an unknown destination?
Curiosity overcame tired legs and up we went…
It was just a short climb to a tabletop of stone with a panoramic view. So that’s how you get here! I’d always seen this lone fir on its rocky promontory from the highway and wondered…
Now I know!
Sweet surprise for an afternoon’s trudge.
Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.” Eccl 11:7 KJV
P.S. If you enjoy Robert Frost’s poetry, don’t miss his first anthology, A Boy’s Will, available free online at BooksShouldBeFree.com