Jed had no idea where it would take him; he didn’t care. He wasn’t aiming toward a destination. He just needed to get away from the rat race for a while. His goal was simply to explore new ground and to see what he could see.
Sometimes, he figured, you just have to let life lead the way and see where it wants to take you.
The terrain he traveled would have seemed unremarkable to most, a homogenous stretch of tangled weeds, vines and trees.
But because he was looking, Jed saw the details– the shapes of the leaves, the variety of buds, berries and flowers, the textures of bark, the countless jeweled insects, how the grasses told where deer walked.
He marveled at the order within its complexity. It was all one integrated, living system, each piece contributing to the other.
The trail, it turned out, ended at a small turn around by a creek with a small fire pit at its edge. Beside the fire pit a worn plastic chair leaned against a tree.
Jeff sat down in the chair and watched the creek for a while. It, too, he realized, was a winding trail, much like the one he had just followed. And the trail that was the creek and the trail he had just traveled were part of a larger, living system, each piece contributing to the other.
It was dusk before Jed pulled onto the freeway that led him home, feeling more at peace than he’d felt in ages. At the periphery of his vision, he saw the lights of the businesses and homes that lined the highway flashing by. Overhead, he noticed the contrail of a jet leaving a trail in the sky.
And he smiled, understanding that it all fit together, and felt whole.