Who Goes There?

 

Ever had the thought “Who has stood in this place, this same place where I now stand?”  A hundred years ago, a thousand years ago? 

There are so many stories that have never been told to anyone.  Who traveled down this road and why?

This road led to a chateau in France.  The day we traveled it we met a Japanese bride and groom in a horse-drawn carriage.  Their wedding party awaited them in the beautiful castle courtyard. I was to learn that the entire party had flown in from Japan so that the couple could have a “storybook” wedding.  

                                

But what other carriages had traveled that same tree-shaded lane?  And if they could time-travel through the centuries wouldn’t they be absolutely amazed?

 

And this hard-beaten path through a forest.  Was it first an animal trail? Is that why it winds with the river?  Did Medieval travelers push their handcarts along this route?

                     

 This high-desert trail with footprints coming and going.  So many of us.  My fifth-grade literature class jumped into my memory.

Lives of great men all remind us,

We can make our lives sublime.

And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.

                      

I was awe-struck by the sights in Zion National Park.  It was like being in  a grand cathedral. No, better than that.

  I prayed as I walked.  “Thank you God for putting guard-rails on my life’s path.  You smoothed the way for me, and led me to the high places.”  

Had thousands of hearts responded the same way?  

This village has stories to tell of World War II.  They have streets named for patriots who died.  Saddest of all, three teenage boys who thought up a way to resist the enemy.

 They successfully plotted to set bonfires near strategic ammunition storage caves, and the main railroad line used by the occupiers of their town, then  managed to radio the RAF who followed through and bombed the sites.  The next day the boys were executed in front of the community gathered in the town square.  (They were hastily given up by a fearful villager.)

In 2009 I shopped at a farmers’ outdoor market there.

 And only yards away from that town square was a magnificent castle once owned by the so-called “secret” wife of Louis XIV.  That’s another story.

 

At times the air swirls and pulses with unseen fellow travelers.

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~ by dottiedoright on January 9, 2010.

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