The winding track and where it led

Every corner, anticipation. Every crest, a new horizon.

It was the idea I loved. But, first came the words. The words were, “A winding track.” The words became the idea. The idea developed.

The idea of a two wheel dirt track ahead. It winds up a wooded hillside in the golden hour of late afternoon. This romantic winding track, no destination in sight, no point of origin, beckons. It’s mystery entices.

So, I now find myself travelling this track. I’m leaving things behind and I am excited by the unknown destination ahead. I am savouring the journey.

Savouring, now there’s a word! A word to savour. A word begets an idea, begets a reality.

Ah, here is the real joy, the savouring. The pleasure in the journey, the exciting anticipation of getting there. Wherever there may be.

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