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This past Tuesday I had a laundry list of to-do’s (including laundry!) but when the morning dawned sunny and unseasonably warm I knew I had to throw caution to the wind and hop in my Jeep and drive. I tossed my roof in the back and headed for the rolling hillsides north of Toronto, searching for some peace of mind while loving the fresh fall breeze in my face.  What I found was side road after side road decked out in fall splendour.  I found the snap above not far from the quaint hamlet of Moonstone.  It was, like other roads on that day, the road taken.  I know I will remember that day for the cherished feeling of freedom that flowed through me as a drove.

I can’t help but also share Robert Frost’s famous poem here; it seems so fitting!  Have a great week everyone.

Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;         5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,         10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.         15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.         20