Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Path
The path down by the lake was overrun with weeds. He could smell wild garlic and had to hop quickly a few times to avoid being stung by nettles. He wondered, if he'd lived a thousand years before, if he'd have heard a swan singing about how her sister murdered her, or if he'd see Viking warriors counting their spoils on the shore. One day, he'd walk a new path, but today, he was content to walk his familiar one and remember those who'd walked it before him.
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1 comment:
It invokes memories of England, the smell of garlic and the nettles.
So many times we do not stop to wonder what is down another path, blindly following the same one as always, but I do not get that feeling here, it is more like the feeling of home and familiarity, something that is not changing in this strange world.
I very much liked it.
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