This Path

This path, walked countless times by Anne Lister. The same dirt, the same rocks, the same tall grass, the same sky, the same clouds. It led her up, raised her above the expectations of society. Took her around a dark, mossy rock wall, into the unknown that is just around the corner. Her fast pace, strong legs, and fit body likely didn’t even register she was walking uphill, she simply plowed forward, making the ground her servant, one which gave what she was seeking with each resilient step…direction, hope, purpose, and guidance to her love. I like to think these hills functioned as her racquetball court - ideas, thoughts, grievances, hopes, and dreams were shot out from her mind into the hills, which tussled them around in their grassy fine-tooth combs, then propelled them back to her, with the gift of clarity. How many times did this path and those hills restore her focus?