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?
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.
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?
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