Give me a road, not a highway.

I'm fascinated by the Czech novelist Milan Kundera. Because he makes me think. He ponders in a meaningful way the difference between a road and a highway.

"Road," he writes. "A strip of ground over which one walks. A highway differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another. A highway has no meaning in itself; its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop. A highway is the triumphant devaluation of space, which thanks to it has been reduced to a mere obstacle to human movement and a waste of time.

"Before roads and paths disappeared from the landscape, they had disappeared from the human soul; man stopped wanting to walk, to walk on his own feet and to enjoy it. What's more, he no longer saw his own life as a road, but as a highway; a line that led from one point to another, from the rank of captain to the rank of general, from the role of wife to the role of widow. Time became a mere obstacle to life, an obstacle that had to be overcome by ever greater speed."

Yes, give me a road rather than a highway. I want to take my time. I want to see and savor the beauty. Of everything around me. --Jim Broede