Friday, June 22, 2007

The Road Less Traveled


Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken


This was the view from my car this morning on the way to work. Rather than take the Interstate, I took the back roads through the Gila River Indian Reservation. I love to take this route because it's so "empty" - void of cars, people and noise. I opened my windows and soaked in the peacefulness of the stillness all around me. As I was driving and thinking, I thought of the analogy between the road less traveled and my life. However, upon further reflection, I realized that this road less traveled is calm and peaceful, my road less traveled is chaotic and unpredictable. One road I chose, one road I did not.

Just an observation.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

What in the world were you doing taking a picture while you were driving??

Maureen :o)

Ann said...

I wasn't driving. I pulled over, got out, stood in the middle of the road and took a picture with my phone. The opportunty was too good to pass up. :-)

kristy said...

great picture.

Kar said...

You know what's really interesting about that picture? It's a camera pic, so the resolution's a little off...makes it look almost fake, like a painting, or like something's been doctored on it.

And I find that somehow ... fitting. And terribly appealing!

You know what they'd call "peaceful" if we didn't have the chaos? "Boring". And that's why I'm doing all I can to avoid heaven in the hearafter!

If Hilary has half her mother's talent, and even a smidgen of her mother's incredible determination, well, then the, Oprah better make room on her book club calendar...

Mike said...

"One road I chose, one road I did not."

It seems from reading your blog here that your road was chosen for you.

You are a wonderful writer. I have enjoyed reading your entries.

Cindy said...

Love the photo Ann. Sometimes a camera phone will give you an unexpected artsy look.

This post also reminds me of a poem I wrote when the twins were babies and I was new to our little kids-with-special-needs club. I'm not much of a poet, but you'll get the idea...

The Dirt Road
by Cynthia Bissell

Cruising along an endless stretch of highway, pavement hard and smooth.
People staring straight ahead, not taking their eyes off the road.
The lines whisk past as dots that hypnotize, so boring and routine.
Without challenge, without change and such a waste of time.

Then suddenly, without warning, a detour sign ahead.
I turn the wheel, screech and skid, down a dirt road I know not where.
Stones fly from under my tires, as I struggle to gain control.
I must slow down and keep my head, try to stay on course.

Lost, frightened and all alone on some lonesome backwoods road.
The bumps, ruts, twists and turns, will I ever make it through?
I take a deep breath, cautiously progress, for what's ahead I do not know.
Yet as I go, I start to note the beauty along this road.

Then here and there I begin to see some others traveling here too.
They smile and nod with a knowing look and I no longer feel so alone.
There is a kinship here, an understanding too, that sets us apart from the rest.
We've learned some lessons, gained some skills that could only be learned here.

This road has taught us how rough life can be, but has made us much stronger too.

Ann said...

Great poem Cindy.