The Long Trail


    She had a smile and bright eyes when walking the trail by my side. We didn’t know where we would end up…we just walked the trail with a faint idea of the journey, and some vague plans for the next steps and the days ahead.

    The warm breeze of December in the south hemisphere gave the hopes for the unknown, while the holding hands the reassurance for the times to come.

    But winter is always ahead, and although we did know, we kept the smile while feeling the breeze in our young faces, walking the path together to the horizon always farther away on the road.

    And winter did come.

    Then the trail turned from the colored flowers all around to the brownish land of sadness at fall; and the sun changed to a reddish color for the winter and snow ahead. So the walking became hard with the cold wind in the face and the snow on the ground; feeling how the warm days of summer went away to be replaced by the harsh times of the season that had to be gone through.

    Did we have to?  And the thoughts of going back the trail to the beginning started to take home. Yet the long distance already traveled and the thoughts of going back cold, tired and sad through the same place that was walked warm and with a smile before…

    The beginning of the trail and the horizon at the other end, they both seemed the same. We where standing there, trying to find a reason to keep going.

    Then the little bird…the unimaginable find in the middle of nowhere; almost buried in the snow, looking at us, waiting to take it with us in our journey; to protect it and grow it as our treasure for the years to come.

    So one hand holding the little bird while another found the excuse to touch the now stranger other hand once again. The excuse of the little bird; the responsibility of taking care of it; helping it grow as a given task; while walking the path to nowhere; to the setting sun.

    And the little bird did grow!

    Protecting it with our cold hands, together from the wind and the snow, just to find later we couldn’t let it go. The growing little bird became the element that held us together while walking the trail without aim, hoping for the warm sun to come back once again in the sky.

    Stopping for a moment to look back and find the long trail walked now, and the horizon at the other end, with the promise of spring ahead and warmer days to keep going in the journey started so long ago.

    And while the little bird has grown and trying its wings to fly on its own, the sun of spring announces its return and the colored flowers make the promise of a wonderful path to walk once more.

    So now the thoughts of letting the once little bird fly on its own, give us the memories of the times when we started this trail so long ago. The two of us, knowing now there’ll be a bird flying somewhere; happily finding his own path and flying through the seasons of life and the fields of love.

    While we, confused by the changes ahead, continue to walk this trail, looking at the horizon, knowing spring is coming with its colored flowers in the field, to be followed by the warm breeze of summer, to be back at the beginning while reaching the end of the road.


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