The Road Less Traveled

Dale and I had breakfast at Denny's this morning. From there, he drove to work and I walked home.

Usually, I follow the sidewalks and side streets home while listening to music or podcasts or audio books. But today I did something different. I went off the beaten path with merely my own thoughts for company.

I started out crossing parking lots of restaurants. That's were I found my first treasure. A dime. From there, I crossed grass strips between the lots, a side street, and headed toward the gas station where I spotted my second treasure. A rather beat-up penny.

My walk continued along our small town's main street, of which only part has a sidewalk. That's when a snowflake fell on my shoulder. I scurried across that street, at the (very short) walk signal, then passed the car wash and laundromat to the gravel road that leads to the lumber mill. There, I had to dodge a car. The speedy driver must have been late for work.

At the edge of the forest, lying in the dirt, I found a wrench in excellent condition. Then I entered the woods. This patch is pretty junked up by the discarded vacuums, chairs, chests and netting from the neighboring trailer park. It's obvious that the teenagers like to hang out here, jumping their bikes on makeshift ramps and drinking beer and Red Bull.

Deeper into the forest are the remnants of a squatter's camp, abandoned last fall. It was getting creepy under the pines and I was glad to be out of the mud and wet needles a couple minutes later.

Up through a multi-family housing unit, I climbed. Then down the hill to the duplex part of town. At my feet I found a little something carved into the wet cement and allowed to dry. I was humming along, lost in private thoughts, and missed the turn onto my block. I figured it out when I recognized the curve in the road near Hunter's house.

Hunter was a little girl, 4 years old, who like to explore the neighborhood. She wandered three blocks away and landed at my door one day, asking for cookies. Luckily, she was able to point me back to her home where a posse of police and some very worried parents grabbed her into their arms. That memory snapshot spread a smile across my face.

Around the curve I found the home of a model train enthusiast.

Another half block away, a black cat darted across the street in front of me and flattened himself enough to slide under this garage door. I'm not concerned. This morning is giving me everything but bad luck. 


I walked the last two blocks along the Centennial Trail, then ducked onto my street. Our neighbor's Christmas lights are on, proclaiming LOVE.

You know, it's worth walking the road less traveled when it leads to home and love.