I took the dogs for a walk in the woods today, and it was brisk and cold. We walk on a trail that wanders along some railroad tracks and follows an old falls, over which soars the oldest stone railroad bridge in the country. It was built in 1829 and still stands. As I was walking, the words of Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” kept running through my mind. We kept coming to forks in the road, and we followed the ones with fewer footsteps in the snow. This trail is our newest place to walk. It’s right in the middle of the city, yet you feel a million miles away from everything. After almost 200 years, these tracks are still in use.
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”