I wander not to seek for more.
I like the plain, I climb no hill,
In greatest storms, I sit on shore
And laugh at them that toil in vain,
To get what must be lost again"--William Byrd
I love mountains, as most people do. But when it comes to hiking, I prefer our local north Texas flatlands. I can learn a lesson about that, somehow, and perhaps not a mere greeting card lesson. The lesson is something to do with it being okay to take on a long slog, but that it's also okay to accept that I'm on a track that does not reach any of the supposed heights. There's a more elusive lesson, too, about how what appears to be high and noble is sometimes really just topography and definition. But I'll let that one slip by me for a moment.