Yesterday I walked through Roaring Camp, a place of noise, crowds and happy energy in the summertime, a peaceful park in the fall. The trains were still, the quaint little "western" buildings empty and my feet alone padded down the pathes. But I wasn't alone. The shimmery pond was full of duck-play, ducks zipping around, splashing and chasing each other. Probably the tribal wedding dance. After a nice walk and some reflection on life's meaning and clutter, I tramped over the covered bridge, took one more look back and than proceeded home to the meaningful clutter. Looking back is nice, looking forward is helpful, but there's nothing like being in the moment.
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