Tag Archives: woods


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

“Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”

John 1:3 (NIV)




Filed under Latent Poetic Tendencies, photography



“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”*

Okay, so our neighborhood isn’t exactly in the woods, but it’s rural enough for me with everything we need within walking distance. I came here to connect with my life, the life I seemed to have lost making a living.

We now know where everything I can think of is located on the property (having given up on all the stuff I either lost, left behind or passed on to the kids). Erin and I are pleased with our progress:


The flower bed is set and doing well,
the garden is ready for plants (since it’s too late to start from seeds), and
we have a good, solid grasp of our budget.

“…I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…”*

Now, all eyes on our target, residual income, we begin phase two of our reorganization project; juggling the stuff in the rooms around.

Rather than plunge head-on into the heavy lifting (literally), we took the weekend off to learn what the countryside has to teach.


Most notably we learned today is one of several free fishing weekends in Colorado; no license or tags required. So after Sunday dinner at Keira’s we’ll be dropping lines in the Lake – definitely in the woods. Sure, we could go home a little early and get a head start on the week. But free fishing during perfect weather only happens a few times a year.

Watching our bobbers on the water, I’ll thank God for my life. I’ll breathe, and work hard to think about nothing else.

“On the seventh day God had finished his work of creation, so he rested from all his work.” Genesis 2:2 (NLT)

 *Walden: Or, Life in the Woods, Chapter 2 by  Henry David Thoreau
Images by E.V.A. Lambert
Closing image courtesy ABSFreepic.com


Filed under Notes from the Apex



Alone for the first time I could remember, I stopped and stood to study the wood before me. I bowed my head, closed my eyes and drew a deep, deliberate breath, determined to clear my mind.

I lifted my head as I opened my eyes. Across the small clearing a distinct path was directly ahead of me. Except for one young tree that I could easily step around, my eyes followed a straight, fair distance. Farther along, and higher up, from behind two darker masses, peeked a hint of misty, gray-blue sky; like foggy sunlight glowing from behind lace curtains into an unlit room.

I imagined the walk and where it led. I wanted more.

Turning my head slowly back and forth, I could make out gaps between trees, suggesting other paths. Unmoved, I scanned the wood’s edge again more slowly. Every opening I had noticed before seemed to have narrowed. But as I turned my face to my right, my vision voluntarily shot ahead a few yards. Without the slightest movement in the tree line my eyes stopped where I perceived a lane. The trees there seemed a slightly lighter shade of color and the ground cover sparser amongst blotches of grassy spots.

Uncertain, I looked past that point following the clearing until my neck stretched fully, and then turned it back again, expecting what had been another illusion would be gone. Instead the trailhead was more distinct and seemed even lighter. I glanced back at the obvious path straight ahead of me. I thought to look all around one more time, but instead my foot lifted, I stepped to the right and the rest of me followed the right path into the wood.

Years later, as I reflect upon that turn, I wonder if my life would have been different had I taken the obvious path in front of me. Is predictable better? Was the right path wrong? Would loss and suffering have stayed with me on another trail? Was it all the difference or was it destiny?


Filed under Notes from the Apex