The best things, and places, are the ones you don’t spend hours looking for, but the ones that happen upon you accidentally.
One in particular found me on a summer day. It had rained previously, so as I pedaled over even the paved path, mud splashed upon my bike, bare legs, shoes…heck, it was everywhere, much to my delight.

Ubruptly, I came to the bridge, and was faced with a choice. Turn around, turn right and cross the bridge, or continue straight on the narrow, dirt (well, mud in this case) way. There was no one to tell me not to take the road less traveled, only my own heart urging me forth…so that’s exactly what I did.

The first time, I didn’t even go far enough to emerge from the rustle of grasses as my sides brushed past, the click of my bike, and my own breath – all steady, close sounds splatted against a background drone, the lazy rush of the river.

Each time I returned, driven by the desire to learn what lay beyond my turning point, a small piece of the world revealed itself to me.