The road taken and taken and taken

 

 

The Road Not Taken

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.

Robert Frost

Rick and I had a road not taken moment when we went out for a walk to look for the 13th century chapel, Notre dame de vie. The day was extraordinary in its blue sky and mild breeze as we walked through the woods toward the mountains. A few times we ran into other people on the path.

When we asked them if we were on the right road, for the road had split in true Frostian fashion, they pointed us in the direction we were going and said, "pas trop loin." So we walked on and on.

We passed many pretty spots...

We walked for just under two hours when we decided to give up. "We'll come back with your car," I said wondering if the chapel would have been around the next bend but I didn't want to go to the next and the next and the next...but I do want to see the chapel.

Rick agreed. He'd been snapping many more photos than I had: cork trees with half their bark harvested, Chàteau Valmy, interesting rock formations, mimosa trees, horses and more, the Med in the distance.

Hand in hand we walked back to the village with a sense of peace exemplified by the two doves on top of a gate post.