The Road More Traveled

It was a brilliant day both ways. The trip down and back to the city through the Adirondacks. Again. And again.

We live near a harsh and extreme place. Not many choose to make the Adirondacks their home, but for those that do, and for those who travel through, God's majesty is revealed in it's severity. Especially in it's long winter.

Snow draped over the Adirondack hills. Around bends familiar sites; a house, a barn, a church, Joe Indian Pond, Backwoods Inn, French Pond, white birches, raging rivers. Familiar sites, so different in each season.

Through the forests along the road, evergreens appear as brides clothed in white garments waiting, ready for their bridegrooms. While oaks and poplars stand tall and erect, sentinels stiffly reaching upward. Standing guard among their brides and streching up towards their maker. Occasionally, gentle breezes blow loose snow which rise up as gossamer veils around the waiting brides. Beautiful.

And my senses are acutely aware of struggles not my own. The glacial ivory ice adhered to the jagged rock of the mountains; appearing as faces peaking out of the rock, bonneted with soft white snow. Looking out. Awaiting the transformation, a promise of things to come. A release and freedom to become part of the rivers below, again.

I continue on , sensing His presence and His love, my companion the solitary piano notes of Frank Defino Jr playing "Imagine That". And I can almost imagine that, the restoration, the putting things back together, the hope and the promise He left. The new heaven and new earth. Restoration.

And I visit a son, and a city which holds so many wonderful, warm family memories.