The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
To cap off my Mother's Day celebration my husband took me for a long drive around the countryside. Though we both have lived in this area all of our lives he still manages to find places that we have never seen before. Last night was no exception.
Seeing a sign that says "Seasonal Limited Use Highway" is not a deterrent to us but an invitation. Along this little used highway we happened upon this old and abandoned cemetery. Knowing that these treasures are another pleasure for me, my husband stopped the car and we explored.
Though saddened by the abuse that time and people have wrought upon the stones, we both prayerfully read the names of the inhabitants and speculated about the lives that were contained therein.
Then back in the car for some more surprises and scenery!
South of here are several wind farms. Though in some areas of the country their presence is frowned upon and folks say that they are an eyesore, I find them both lovely and compelling. The soft whir of the blades turning in the breeze and the undulating shadows that they cast upon the ground have almost a calming effect.
There is also something so right about capturing the breezes that blow and turning them into lights to read by and warmth for the home.
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