Ways Into The Wild

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 kept 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.

 

By Robert Frost

 

This reminded me a bit of the poem, despite neither 'road', the path and bridge above and the river below, diverging nor converging. They both looked like different ways into the wild, into the forest. The bridge above for humans and the river below for fish and wildlife.

 

This area is very special for me. It holds a lot of memories for me and my large, extended family. For many years, my family were landowners along this river. We hiked, fished and held family reunions at The Property. Until it was finally sold to the county and is now part of this park. I'm not religious but going into a beautiful natural area like this is a bit like going to church for me. It makes me feel a part of a bigger whole.

Done