Sometimes, A Bridge

A Bridge
As you emerge from beneath the canopy, you come upon a bridge. Photo by Tim Graves

On the trail, you sometimes wander. You wonder how you came to be on this path when you really want to be on another. You thought you read the map. You thought you understood the trail markings. And…

And still you find yourself on this path when you really want to be on another. So, you keep moving forward. Placing foot ahead of foot, you whine at your aching muscles. You allow yourself to be bored by the beauty surrounding you. But…

But this is your path and aching muscles can become stronger. This is your path. It is your journey. And, so, you try to convince yourself that this trail is the trail upon which you belong. But…

But this is not an easy journey. Switchback after steep switchback you move. In the struggle you forget to complain. Your thoughts drift and you wonder. Where will it end? Will there be vistas of ocean or mountains? Will you find a bench beside a clear stream babbling over jagged rocks to rest your tired feet?

A sound pulls you out of your wandering wonder and you notice those who inhabit the nearby trees and bushes. The jays scold you. The squirrels alert their kindred of your presence. And you find joy in their presence. A smile and a chuckle escape your lips. As…

As you round the bend you see the sunlight touching the ground. As you emerge from beneath the canopy, you come upon a bridge. Sometimes…

Sometimes, you come upon a bridge.

Carefully, you step upon its aging planks. Will it hold? Where does it lead? Arriving on the other side, you realize this is the path upon which you wanted to journey all along. This is your path. This is your bridge.

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