My Place

In a big country dreams stay with you
Like a lover's voice fires the mountainside
--Big Country

Many people have a place--a special place where they find solitude and reflection. For many years my place was a park that wound along the Wisconsin River. I loved to walk the trail and watch the  tamarack-stained river peacefully flowing by.

There was one point in particular with a westward view of the river sloping toward the pineries. In the evenings, as the sun went down, I would reflect on the past, and hope and pray for the future.

Although I left Central Wisconsin long ago, I think of my place when I am in a reflective mood. Sometimes I look at pictures. Sometimes I imagine being there.

Now and then, I am fortunate to return to the area and visit old friends. I had hardly arrived last evening when I heard my place calling. Although it was getting dark, I dropped my things in my room and headed to the park.

Once again I am walking the path of dreams, giving thanks for all of my good fortune, and gazing at the horizon of hope.