Thursday, September 1, 2016

To never find one's way back.

The back roads. Of northern Minnesota. And Canada.  Through ramshackle but quaint towns. Where some people live year-round. Some being poor. In monetary terms. But rich in the most meaningful ways.  Living in paradise. Away from the hustle-bustle of urban and suburban environs. Trees, Trees. And more trees. Lily ponds. Babbling brooks. And rushing streams. The quiet of solitude. Blended with tranquil sounds of nature.  Places to get lost. It’s all right. To never find one’s way back. --Jim Broede

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