There’s something about jumping on the ATV at my mom’s house that refreshes me. During a recent visit, she asked me to check on a couple things, so I started the ATV and headed toward the commonly-used trails. The squirrels scurried out of my path. The filtered sun flashed through the trees. The breeze greeted me with rejuvenation.
I felt the combination of reassurance of the familiar and the freshness of a new day with adventure potential. I’d ridden those same trails so many times with my dad, my mom, or more family as we meandered across the hills, loaded on a trailer for holiday scavenger hunts. I am also stepping into the future and making new memories. The basic trails are the same, but the details change. The small pond has dried over the years. The newer sunflower and pumpkin fields infuse color, and the greenery continues to grow and replace some spaces where livestock once roamed and fed.
I’ve been on those trails in the heat and cold, the dust and rain. I’ve felt the wind at my back and in my face, whether it was blowing fiercely or gently. I’ve been on the trails with others and on my own.
I appreciate the trails I’ve lived. I appreciate the trails I’m living.