The music is soft and flowing in the back ground like a gentle breeze carrying a feather throughout the house.I find myself rocking gently to the rhythm with my mind dancing through the corridors of yesterday into pockets of time, remembering those who, I used to ask"walk with me......"
So much time has passed without a whispering invite, and silent point towards a path-that, I now realize with a soul fluttering with regret.
Oh, how time has gotten away from us! And how the many of you have moved on to other paths, ones from which I cannot find and wish to summon up the invite to all....
The meaning of the walk might have lost you, or you are of new eyes, no matter, the paths and roads were found not only by chance, but of hidden need."So walk with me."
Do you see at the opening of the path and wooden marker jutting up from the ground? tis an old telling of a story and time long ago of this great place among the ancient trees whispering with fanning bows in the light of a-British Columbia afternoon.
Don't be afraid, I can see them too, the ghost's peering out from the huckle-berry-bushes and stinging-nettle----Just take my hand, they'll not bother us none, but to put images in our heads, of that, an era some still remember like the (gold rush-and on).
See here now, upon the patchy moss covering the edges of the old paved road, too narrow for two cars to pass, and, the umbrella of trees shading our walk downward in a long-zig-zag-motion, which, actually----sparks intrigue with the thought of roads and their simplicity with a day which, found the construction suitable and with function, in a time my parent's fan with childhood memory.Course, that was long ago, no longer is there a hum of an old car rambling down the road, instead the hum is in the song of birds twittering from tree branch to bush as we walk, hearing the mighty Fraser river rushing in the distance-perpetuating images of all kinds, and stirring up emotions inside-
(do you feel it?) But most of all, it's in the beat of the heart dashed with the pending exhilaration with the open stage we'll soon come upon.
Are you still with me? Don't let go, the old road with its years of cracks stretching with veins of moss and smatterings of small wild flower nears an end.Two large boulders mark a dirt path through overgrown bush down to the railroad tracks, where, the train will still your heart with the rush of air and the roar of hundreds of metal wheels screaming.
To the other side the winding path narrows with exposed roots marking its linage.A plateau ahead creates a stage of sorts among the towering firs standing gallant as if in honoring the age-old-river, sharing with us a sneak peek below of it's up and coming performance.
Shall we continue?Hold tight to my arm, the downward climb isn't long but worth the effort in the gifts awaiting you.
Down-down-down, until the canopy of the trees seem higher and higher making one feel small.
Can you see the bright light of the day parting through the trees? we've neared the end, and yet, oh, there's no true end to this adventure but a new beginning- of that with many tales passed on and on with stories known, and, ones awaiting you to find and create of your own.
So come on, I dare you the adventure.Take my hand in meeting with, Sir Alexander~
Remember when I said this wasn't the end of the path? nor the adventure? I mean it! with with every fiber of my adventourous spirit and beating heart soaring before our placement upon this bridge, feet to the metal, grate seeing through-the mighty river beneath, and, a pilgrimage of colossal thought stretching life times of others to the other end.