Photograph

As I was looking at the photograph that I took, it reminded me of that poem by Robert Frost. When I got sick last year and had a seziure, I had two choices: I could lie down and give up, or I could get back into living again. The peom says much more eloquently that we all have a choice. We can follow everyone else, or take the path less followed and blaze our own trail. Here is the poem in case you aren't familiar with it. Life is too short to play follow the leader. We can wander, get lost, stumble, fall, dust ourselves off, and get back on the path again. People may laugh at us, cheer for us, scowl at us, but it is all good. We are in charge of our destiny. Go out there and walk on some sunshine.
Peace. . .

Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.

1. 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; 5

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, 10

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. 15

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.