Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Road Less Traveled
It's not every day that this Kansas farm wife's daily walk is illustrated with scenes like this.
Even walking outside has been the road less traveled this winter. The four knotty-pine-covered walls of my basement have been the backdrop for hundreds of miles traversed via treadmill during this cold and wet winter.
When Randy decided to golf at Lake Hefner in Oklahoma City during our stay for the NCAA tournament, I opted for the walking trails surrounding it.
It was a brisk day, one of those days when you knew what the song was talking about: "O .... klahoma! Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain!"
There were literally miles of asphalt trails mapped out in this oasis in the middle of a busy city. I greeted fellow walkers with a pleasant "Good morning!" or a wave of my hand to those who flew by on bicycles. (My city-wise daughter says my hearty greetings probably identify me as a County Mouse come to call in the City. But it's quite an occasion to see other people on my walk. Normally, Ralph the dog and the occasional pickup passerby are the only souls I see on my walks.)
But even with all my walking companions, the lake beckoned this landlocked Kansas farm girl. It called me to leave the level, 2-lane-marked walking surface to reach the water's edge.
So I gravitated off the beaten path to the road less traveled.
It's there I saw the sunlight dancing in starbursts across the water's waves while geese glided carefree across its surface.
It's there I saw rows of sailboats sitting like sentinels, a much different view from the prairie's windmills and silos. The clanging of the boats' rigging created a jingle-jangle similar to the music of windmills blowing in the breeze.
Nothing but the geese were sailing on Lake Hefner on that Friday morning. I suppose the sailors were off working jobs that give them the money to pay for their weekend pleasures.
Now that I'm back home and spring has finally arrived (at least for a day or two), I'll be back treading more familiar ground. And I'll enjoy God's beauty on the County Line, this place I call home.
But I will remember fondly my walk in Oklahoma City. In Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken, he talks about such a walk and says, in part:
"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."
Wishing you a day of actually seeing the beauty of God's creation - in the ordinary and the extraordinary.