Down the track

There’s a certain inevitability about train tracks – that they will lead away from you, that you will never ride all the rails, that there is an end you may not see coming.

I approach my Seeing Beauty assignment with my usual doubt. Will I be able to find beauty on a mumbling trail of metal, wood and dirt?

It never seems likely. Yet I have given myself a job to do, and I put one foot in front of the other and open my eyes a little wider.

It’s always there. Always. So why do I still doubt it?

Today I’m nearly buried by uncertainty. I know what’s ahead but I have no idea how I’ll get there. If there’s a conductor I can’t see him. I’m hoping that the tunnels aren’t too long.

At this time in my life, the weight of my days seems crushing. I would prefer to stay in bed.

But somehow, I got out of bed. I had coffee. I showered and dressed. I got in my car and started the engine.

I drove to my destination without crying.

And there it was.

Yes, a lamb. Next to the train tracks. A whole flock of sheep, baa’ing at me. As if to say, “What’s the problem?”

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