It’s not the years. It’s the miles.

 

Someone once passed along those sage words of wisdom.

I tend to agree with the sentiment. For along the path that fate has put in my way, there have indeed been memorable miles. But time has had its way and crept into the equation as well.

A few weeks back, my high school class held its 40th reunion. It was great to see folks who had gone their own ways, on their own adventures since graduation in June of 1977. Looking back, things did not go anywhere near the plans I though were ahead for me. And while I do not regret that, I do see some moments that I would have rather went other than they did.

I am sure we all have those lurking about. Those “turn right or turn left” moments. Who can say what that path not taken might have offered us?

By no means is the adventure over. I hope to see a great deal more before I call it a day. But just the plans I once had changed, so will those future paths. And that is worth the wait.

 

 

Travel 

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn’t a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going.

 

 

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