I’m off on vacation. It will probably be something of a busman’s holiday–a visit to a museum, a garden, a county historical society, and a stack of articles to enjoy. It usually is. But there’s always something unexpected and memorable to take away.
Two years ago, driving along the Trans-Canada Highway in the Rockies we came upon cars backed-up for miles and at a complete stop. We stopped too far from the accident ahead. Eager to stretch our legs and breathe the piney air, we stepped out of the car onto the shoulder of the road. Looking into the woods an unexpected message greeted us.
I have enjoyed noodling on the who and why at this very place for two years; I have neither answers nor clues, but savor the delight of imagining.