The furthest east that I reached on my drive across the country was a little town called Wells. On the map since 1643, it is the third-oldest town in Maine, has a population of around 10,000 and is a popular vacation spot in the summer months. I enjoyed it in early September after driving from Montana in an effort to “find myself”. I watched the sunrise on the beach with a good cup of coffee and a relaxed spirit that could not be ruffled by anything. I experienced many things on this journey but I this was my most peaceful moment on the whole trip.
This “tree” was left in the sand after the tide went out and the last little bit of water that was trying to follow had some obstacles to deal with. I paused for a bit to watch it wrestle and find its way, then after a little while, a beautiful picture emerged. It sort of seemed to be a bit metaphorical to me, life can definitely be like that sometimes.
