Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Road washed in sunlight

Ahhh! That's the sound of absolute contentment as warm weather settles in and summer with it.

It's been a great week of heat, sunshine and the bliss of trusting that these conditions are here to stay. 

Our cool May, now so nearly done, has rewritten its lines in the nick of time.

It's thrown off the last of the malaise known as the season that stayed too long. Am relishing this new regime very much!

Up North, where the holiday took us last weekend, was pretty in its spring colors.

The lakes region has beauty through the seasons but it's this time of year, with the long light and the imprint of the regenerative earth on the green wooded hills, that ties me to this area of outstate Minnesota. 

On our arrival, glad that the tees and shorts we packed were going to be the standard wear, we felt almost tricked.

Warm as it was, the trees were barely leafed out. We were further along at home with leafage. We weren't quite expecting this. It was a step back to the open views of early spring.

With a string of 80s lining up for the holiday, as if the balmy days were in on the secret from the start that this treat awaited us, the trees quickly leafed out.

There were a few trees stunted by the duress undergone but most trees, with the birds singing in their boughs, played hasty catch-up to compensate for the late start.

Lilacs were the same way. They were bushes with more bravado than leaves when we got there. Dry southerly winds acted like a blow dryer set on HIGH. The lilacs got the message. 

Bushes in protected places or with southerly exposure were able to produce tenuous blossoms to pick for Memorial Day. The wand-like grace of the lavender flowers took center spot at the Memorial Day table. 

Lilacs made an apt holiday bouquet. They bloom at Memorial Day in this part of Minnesota. We associate their blooms and their lavish scent with this national day of appreciation and remembrance.

The gravel road that rises on the other side of the river from where we stayed catches the evening light. 

The hill, and the hills falling away behind it, brought me to reverie as evening deepened and the sun continued strong.

This country road, and many others like it, unroll from our lakes region across the prairies and mountains to our Western coast. 

Aglow with late sunlight, bright enough to need to shield the eyes, this steep incline of a road leads out of sight to places that lead me on.

The dusty road reminds me of pioneers and ones drawn to seek out that which lies over the next hill. The road beckons, the road calls.

These daring souls, believing in destiny, or in luck, or driven by the compulsion to explore or compunction to readdress their lives, follow the roads that in the end are new beginnings.

I think of this with this road. It’s one small road climbing from the river it crosses. At the top is blue sky and the fields and hills to which it presses.

The road is identified by Google but relatively few come upon it other than those with reason to be there. But to me the road is huge. It’s the track to the open spaces of my interests and wonder.

It’s the direction of dreams. It’s the way to possibilities. It’s the roadbed of intentions. It’s the winding route which is the pursuit of steadfast hope.

Washed in sunlight the road stokes my imagination. Its course is to places unknown. It summons something of courage and curiosity to which I respond.

Ro Giencke – May 28, 2014 

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