My foot touches down as I take a step, both of my feet now planted firmly on the dirt road. The road is long and well worn. Its brown-red color radiating warmth beneath the sun’s golden beams. The road stretches for uncounted miles. Fourteen is the number of miles I have already covered. Unknown is the number of miles I have yet to go. The road, at this point, is flanked by two open plains. They had begun lush and vibrant with the life of sharp, green blades of grass, but as the road goes on, they have become more and more barren. Now, all that strew the plains are unwanted weeds and dried shrubs.
I strain to peer ahead. I see what appears to be a crossroad, where the road I am on forks into three. A divergence in the road is somewhat uncommon. At this point in my journey, I have come across only four: one at the three, five, seven, and eleven mile marks. The first three crossroads where difficult, but in hindsight, insignificant. The crossroad four miles back, however torturous, proved to of great importance.
I am glad I chose the path I had at eleven miles, for the past three had been the best I had ever traveled. I remember three miles back, looking ahead, and thinking how diverse the road looked. It was different than any of the previous miles and frightened me. I could have gone the other two roads, but the one I chosen seemed to be the lesser of the three evils. Knowing I had to go on, I decided on that road. The first segment of the new road began on a gentle incline, and I began to fear the choice I had made, but there was no going back. That is when everything changed. I had reached the top of the incline, and looked over. From what I saw before me, I knew I had made the right choice. For the first time on my journey, I fell to my knees and wept. I wept with sadness, confusion, and pure joy.
Before me, extended a valley, a few miles long. It was the most beautiful stretch of land I had seen the past ten miles. To me, the prominent green was most striking. The entire valley was a bed of soft, thick grass, and about halfway through the valley, towered a magnificent tree. The tree was enormously tall, at nearly 2,000 feet, and broad, at 25 feet around. It must have been the largest tree in all of existence, and should have been physically impossible. Its foliage canopied a vast majority of the valley below, and its roots arched and twisted from the earth at great extremes. It was possible to walk within the tree’s roots, which, at many points, arched over the path that I took. After only a few hours of travel, I had come to the roots’ outskirts and began to find myself lost within them, although staying on the road, that kept straight through the valley. I was not lost in the tree itself, but in its mystery and wonder.
That valley had been the best of all that has occurred so far, on my fourteen mile trek. It was the time of my travels that I had freedom and happiness. It was much unlike now.
The fifteenth mile was approaching, and my happiness faded with the green of the plains. As I approached the crossroad, I felt the last of my joy slip from my grasp. I reach the crossroad and fall on my knees, allowing my tears to fall. This time, I wept not for sadness, confusion, or for pure joy, but for the loss of all three. The best time of my journey is ending. I was frightened once more. The terror of choosing holds me in its clutches.
The three options before me look tauntingly at me, piercing my conscious with their abundant secrets. There is a crack of thunder, and I feel the rain descend. I remain kneeling in my sadness, as the rain chills and mingles with my tears. The secrets withheld finally get to me, and my vision goes black, a noise like a siren buzzes in my head.
Slits of white appear in my eyes, as they slowly open. I must have been out though the night. My eyes adjust and I see I am curled in a ball, lying on the dirt road of the fork. I begin to uncurl and straighten myself out. My clothes are stiff and I feel hot, both side effects of sleeping in a downpour all night. I stand, a little wobbly at first. The first things I see are the menacing choices. I had thought it only a dream, or nightmare rather. On realizing this, the tears welled up.
I refused to let them fall. With frustration, I rid them from my eyes. I had to go on. I could not go back, no matter my longing for the tree’s protection and comfort. I must choose. Again, I think of the times I had chosen before. I never knew what the right choice was, yet I did. Somewhere inside, I knew.
Closing my eyes, I search my feelings. Immediately I decide. Although it will, likely, never compare to the tree, I choose to go forward.
Never again will I let the crossroads tear me apart. I will focus and choose, for the tree taught me much. After all, life goes on.