Roads have fascinated me all my life. When I was a little bitty thing there was a family 42 miles away that we visited occasionally. Two roads led there and Daddy would give us a choice. "Which road do you want to take?"
We always chose the Gillespie Road.
It had a tree on it, and therefore we called it the "scenic route."
The old scenic roads of my youth still call to me;
how much has changed around them over the years?
It is self evident all roads were built for some live purpose.
When a strange country road beckons I wonder if that ribbon will lead to an old gold mine or to a lush field of lilies. The question always comes back to haunt me: Is that road still as important to someone? Or is it now a relic to someone's needs in the distant past.
Dirt roads, logging roads, paved roads, express ways across the burning sand; all of them hold that same romantic fascination for me.
One day daughter #5 showed up at my door and said: "Daddy, it's your birthday. What kind of gift can I get you?"
It only took a moment's thought and I grinned. "Let's go get lost."
That's just what we did too. Down one strange road and branching off to another, we twisted and turned until we were hopelessly lost. "Do we take the road less traveled? Or do we head down the one that looks like it loops through the mountains?" Left or right, flip a coin, the decisions were made and soon we didn't even know what state we were in, much less what county.
What a wonderful time we had that day, just seeing the things from new roads.
Look at that tree. Look at that lake. Look at that tractor. Look at that house. Look at that truck. Look at that sunset.
"Sunset?" She cried. "Daddy, which way is out of here?"
There's always a new road open to greet us, follow them if we may. All we have to do is enjoy them more.
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