Susan LaffertyEighth grade. My bike traveled smoothly, softly in the quiet. On the dirt path through bamboo forests.
Shaded relief from strong tropical sun on a humid day.
Freedom. Breeze lifting my hair.
Lacework of bamboo shadows flowing over me. With bits and pieces of bright sunlight.
Rest.
Life plans don’t always take shape and move in directions we imagined.
So many things upend our neatly-laid strategies and schedules.
Visa delay or rejection. Medical emergencies. Evacuations and political uncertainties.
Children struggling in new cultures and places. Needing extra help with education.
Sudden changes of co-workers, coming and going.
It feels like setback. Unwanted adjustments.
Something new. Blank page of another year. Month. Day.
Unwritten. Unspoken. Unknown by me.
At the open door sits fresh, white snow as far as the eye can see. Waiting for the first footprint.
Looks like hope.
