It was a beautiful morning.
As I walked down the old dirt road I stopped in mid-step, feeling the quiet of the moment. The rain had stopped and a silence filled the fields, then one by one the forest was filled with bird songs, their singing touched my soul and I felt alive, at peace with myself.
In the distance, a train whistle was blowing. I think I was born with a wayfarer’s desire to ride off on those rails. The rumble of the rails was deep and the wayfarer within me whispered of the adventure awaiting if only I would just step upon the rusted Train tracks.
I knew that I had a deep desire to see what was down those lost highways and dirt roads. Yet it would not be today.
I had to feed the chickens, gather the eggs, and get the horses out to pasture. Breakfast was ready and Daddy bowed his head and said grace. He prayed for a good harvest this year and gave blessings asking to keep his family healthy.
At the end of the day, I went to sit by the creek with my book in hand and my dog leading the way. I knew that someday I would leave this farm and answer the tugging I felt to find what was down the Dirt Road.
