When mist rises from ice-melting rivers and streams, magic ensues.
When ice dresses branches and twigs, the world is transformed for an instant, an hour, a brief respite.
Winter yawns, thinking it might stretch out another month or two here in the Upper Peninsula.
Everything sparkles and winks in the morning sun, secretly laughing at Old Man Winter’s plan to outstay his welcome.
I pause for five minutes on the way to Marquette already dreaming of steaming hot coffee, grilled potatoes, maybe a scrambled egg. In the distance a train rumbles, blowing its horn.
There’s much in the world we can despair on some mornings as our thoughts fuss about politics, health, loved ones, terrorism or other ills.
Sometimes taking five minutes to pull off onto *the road less traveled* makes all the difference. To detour from our daily rut, our 9-5 of everyday chores and worries and wonderings. Five minutes to breathe in beauty, icicles (even in April) and bird song clears away the clutter of our thoughts and feelings.
Then we hop back into the car refreshed ready to drive into the next moment.
When was the last time you took the road less traveled, for five minutes or a day?