Seasons and Horizons

Most of my workdays don’t look all that exciting.

Meetings.

Walkdowns.

Reports.

Contractors.

Vendors.

Customers.

Electrical rooms.

Data centers that are designed to hold the future.

Then the workday ends.

I get in my rental car, and almost without thinking, I start driving.

Not toward shopping centers or restaurants.

Toward old towns.

Battlefields.

Parks.

Trails.

Places that have been preserved because someone believed they were worth remembering.

It’s an interesting contrast.

During the day I’m surrounded by things being built.

At night I’m surrounded by things that have already stood the test of time.

One world is about what’s next.

The other reminds me what has lasted.

I’ve realized I need both.

The blueprints remind me that people are always building something.

The backroads remind me that not everything worth seeing is new.

Sometimes the oldest streets tell the newest stories.

Sometimes a quiet trail teaches more than another meeting ever could.

I’ve begun to appreciate both parts of the journey.

Because one pays the bills.

The other feeds the soul.