Frost

Clarity

 

Clarity, or self-awareness is something that I've always felt should come all-at-once- like a sneaker wave or bad news. The older I've gotten, the more I realize it usually doesn't happen like that.

I've always loved the Robert Frost poem where the two paths diverge, partly because I long to know that I've done something right- to feel that I chose a wiser path. Sometimes the really defining moments of our lives feel momentous immediately, but when I put my finger on the specific pieces of life that define me, I have to admit that it doesn't always feel important when it's happening. Like the last refrain in Frosts poem, It's not until long after that you realize the weight of that decision.


This morning a tiny bit of clarity- as in a mirror dimly- is present. I'm just beginning to understand the weight and meaning of a series of turns in my path years ago. Nothing too dramatic, nothing to cause panic, but an area to make big, long-term sweeping changes. There's no shortcut to where I want to go. It took this long, and these choices to get here after all.

It's as-if this part of the path has paused on a high point with a view. From here, I can see where I started, the general direction of the path not taken, and a whole world spread out in front of me. Of course a view doesn't just open up like that all at once.

I've seen pieces of it along the way, but now that I've seen this much of it all at once, those distant high spots on the horizon seem less vague and the general direction seems less doubtful.

Time to start moving in the right direction.

 
 
The_Road_Not_Taken_-_Robert_Frost.jpg
 

Isolated Snow

Isolated Snow | 365 Project | Jan 18th, 2013

As I left the house this morning, the air was remarkably still and a thin layer of frost was clinging to every exposed surface. The fog in the air quickly condensed onto my windproof fleece and froze, my moving through the air speeding up the process.

As I started riding down Harrison Street towards Ladd's addition, I noticed a stark transition where the frost thickened into a white layer that covered everything. I don't know if it was actually snow, or just the heaviest frost I've ever seen.

I pulled over on Ladd circle to campture this imge as I've always loved this "tunnel of trees. About 2 blocks outside Ladd's addition, the white layer dissipated. It was almost as if a brief snow storm only hit one 10 block area in SE Portland.