Traveling and pathmaking

Spending some time reviewing Quebec photos this afternoon, I noticed a copy of Antonio Machado's poem about "Traveler, there is no path" in my Natural Gardening image folder.  The translations from the original Spanish poem vary, but their meaning is clear. I hadn't apparently made a post about this poem in either of my blogs, but it's a poem that is meaningful to many, whether travelers or not.

Traveler, there is no path.
The path is made by walking.

Traveller, the path is your tracks
And nothing more.i
Traveller, there is no path
The path is made by walking.
By walking you make a path
And turning, you look back
At a way you will never tread again
Traveller, there is no road
Only wakes in the sea. 

 

We make choices, take risks, and open ourselves for new adventures by setting off on paths. I see so many of them in my memories of past places and paths taken, some more consequential than others, in their endpoints, but often substantial looking back.

 

The serendipitous path that brought us to a place in Quebec near a remarkable national park was one I never imagined.