It's A Journey

 

 



I was organizing and editing photos a few weeks ago and I noticed that over the last year I've taken fifty or so photos of roads.  I have pictures of everything from the busy interstate to meandering farm roads that are simply two trails of dirt leading through high grass.  After I noticed this I looked back over photos I had taken throughout my life and found that when I am in a season of uncertainty or great change I take lots of photos of the roads around me...

I have Polaroids of the bumpy dirt road that leads to my grandparent's house in Maine... the only place in my childhood that ever really felt like "home".

I have misty photos of the roads that I traveled over in the Yukon while on a long road trip with my grandparents... this was the summer before I went to Jr. High, always a time of transition... by the way you couldn't pay me enough to go back to Jr. High.

I have photos of the drive leading to Berkshire... boarding school, away from home, away from friends, filled with uncertainty... to be clear I chose to go away to school, it was not a punishment and I'm still really glad I had the experience.

I have photos of the roads leading to Steamboat through Wyoming... a last road trip before college that I took with my Dad... there was a whole speeding ticket fiasco, but we don't need to get into it ;)

and so on...

Last fall I went home to Fort Collins.  Yes, I had been there many times since we had moved away but I had never really been "home".  I was always careful to stay on the south end of town and to avoid places that held painful memories for me... I didn't do that last September... I booked a room at the Marriott and forced myself to visit all the places that haunted my dreams.  I allowed myself to feel the pain and fear associated with those places and the memories.  I visited the person with whom I had shared most of these moments.  I drove up to Horsetooth reservoir, sat on the rocks surrounding the water and just felt... I cried, I screamed; I am certain I looked totally crazy.  I drove up the Poudre Canyon and let myself just be, only me... alone but okay.  It was such a hard weekend.

The constant that remained throughout the weekend was that every place I went I took a picture of the roads... it was not done with conscious thought... I didn't even notice until now, a year later.
 

I realize now that I'm on a journey.  A journey that has no real beginning, other than birth, and possibly no real ending, other than death.  I cannot force myself to move faster.  My journey has it's own pace.  My companions along the way have their own pace and their own journeys.  I must walk alone sometimes.  Yet, I am never truly alone for the Lord is with me and He alone knows where my destination is. 

It's an interesting place for me to be, somewhere that has no definite, because I am a planner... I want to know what happens next and what exactly that means for me... so to be really clear I'm uncomfortable... and to tell the truth I actually kinda like it.

Are you uncomfortable?  Do you like it?  

Have you noticed any reoccurring themes in

your photos that are trying to tell you something?