The Winding Path

On a late-December afternoon, I found myself following a winding path through a wooded park. The path curved and twisted, lined with patches of snow that had lingered from an earlier storm. Each turn revealed something new—a cluster of evergreens, a frozen puddle, or the distant chirp of a winter bird.

An older woman sitting on a bench along the path waved me over. “This path is like life,” she said, her eyes bright with warmth. “You never know what’s around the next corner, but if you stay present, you’ll see beauty in every step.”

Her words made me notice the details—the crunch of snow underfoot, the interplay of light and shadow, the crisp air filling my lungs. By the time I left the park, the path had become more than a walk; it was a meditation on embracing the journey.