This post is part of the Secret Messages Project. Every day for thirty days, I’ll leave my words in places where they might be found — or might never be found at all. I hope you’ll join me.
I stumbled over a set of abandoned railroad tracks today — the weeds grown high between the rails.
For a long time I stood there in the sunset-light, looking down the tracks and thinking about seasons. Because even strong, fast, forever-seeming things like trains have a season. They serve us for a time, and then they don’t. The weeds run over the tracks and the light catches in the feather-tufted seedheads, and what was useful becomes beautiful, in a different way than before.
And this — all of this — is no tragedy.
I thought for a minute about what it was this moment was saying. Then I fished around in my bag for my favorite piece of chalk, and I wrote an invitation on one of the rails — for you.
I hope you’ll join me. ❤