I’d taken the same walk four times now, through the clearing to the unmarked path through the forest, over the bridge to the pathway, down the tunnel of the trees to the reflecting river, over the road to the town. And then back again, in reverse, taking the same path but seeing different trees, different colors, different runners and bicyclists.
But today I continued the other way, for some reason not wanting to finish, wanting to see what laid further down the path. More trees, more forest, another road, the same. And then it opened up to a gorge that revealed the valley and mountains where we had adventured the previous day. The bench chained to the bridge seemed perfectly fitting, a way to enjoy a scene made to be discovered day after day again.
Ten minutes beyond. New discoveries. New memories.