We have to get used to the fact that at the most important crossroads in life there are no signs. Ernest Hemingway
Every time I travel, near or far, I am intrigued by the landscapes. The space around me. The people filling the spaces. Yesterday we traveled through New York City just before sunrise. The early light cast on the skyline made for a steel gray glow. The entire island of Manhattan seemed frozen in space and time.
As the sun came up I thought of the millions of people waking up to their Saturdays. Where they’d go? Who’d they’d spend the day with? What were their stories? Everywhere I go I watch. Listen. Create. Every story different.
Traveling the eastern seaboard with dotted stops along the way provides little micro snapshots of fellow travelers. In traveling through North Carolina this morning, after an overnight stay in Williamsburg, there are new landscapes, new stories to tell.
There are posted signs and billboards everywhere on the highway. Guiding travelers to this place or that. Sometimes in our travels the most impactful sights and memories are experienced just slightly off the main road without any signs. Traveling has a way of offering surprise crossroads.
Unexpected conversations. Unexpected treasures. Unexpected peace.
Six years ago the world shut down. We cocooned in for weeks and months. Long ago but not forgotten. We persevered. We are not meant for lengthy hibernation. Crawling back out took time. Trust. Hope. But eventually we packed our cargo again. All of us. We got back on the road.
The road doesn’t have to be a thousand mile travel. The road can be one mile to a friend’s house. Or thirty miles to a treasured family member’s. Staying connected and reaching out keeps us filled. We look back together. We look forward together. We are together…even when we’re apart.
Lisa Rose Bauer 