The road less travelled...

Robert Frost, I could imagine him standing at the edge of a forest, thinking about how he wanted to reach the other side. As I watch as he pondered his path forward, I saw him think, would he walk along a straight line, going directly through the forest? Or, could he imagine a path that wandered and meandered in every conceivable direction, around rocks, between evergreens and deciduous trees, through meadows, along a stream. Could he himself, feeding the deer, the rabbits, and conversing with the owls, or roasting marshmallows?

I think he saw a path that wandered in every possible direction because this is how things are in a forest. Our paths in life are never straight, and many times we have to choose do we take the path directly to where we want to go, or do we wander through the forest and still get to the same path. For those that are in the process of deciding which path to take, a read of Robert Frost poem may help. 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day! 
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.