“Mother thinks the road is long and lonely. Little brother thinks the road is straight and fine. Little darlin’ thinks the road is soft and lovely. I’m thankful that ole road’s a friend of mine.” ~Townes Van Zandt~
As long as I can recall what’s further on up the road or over the next hill has intrigued me—sometimes to the point of distraction. The frontier trailblazer Daniel Boone was an early hero, but the explorer in me was alive and well before I was ever Disneyfied. I was born with the sinewy threads of wanderlust woven into the fabric of my soul.
Foghorns and train whistles beckoned me as a child. The Port Colborne Public Library was a favorite haunt, for it was there that books could take me on an adventure to some faraway place. That marvel only served to ignite the gypsy fire in me. The desire has faded at times, but embers always smoldered enough to be easily fanned into flames.
It’s a wonderful windswept world, but the road can be a hard taskmaster—long and twisting with potholes and ditches that can bruise and bounce us. Each turn or pit-stop is designed to teach truths about matters of the heart and the stuff of eternity.
Though I am still in the process of learning and applying the many lessons, this tab will highlight tales, commentary and bits of wisdom gleaned whilst on the road.