It seems that we return often to forks in the thread of life, or perhaps we are encountering new ones all the time. This tumbleweed reminds me that our journey is not as straightforward as we’d like, but…like a tumbleweed, our best bet is to tumble along, using the wind to set us flying.


The Future The Future

On my journey I will forge ahead. I’ll have to choose to go forward, or take the path to the right, to the left or maybe even go back, but I will hope to be granted the grace to pause and soak in my surroundings until they start to make sense. That is the best I can do in this topsy turvy unpredictable ride we call life. Sometimes my old choices are so worn and polished with repetition that they become like wooden grooves that make for a comfortable fit.

I look at this Russian Thistle, this tumbleweed which has run out of time and open space to tumble in and thus has found the end of its journey, dried and jammed up against a wall of dirt and wedged in place by farm implements left out to rust. Its journey became ingrained in these woody stems and…

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