PHOTO FEATURE: PATHS IN THE KUMAON FOOTHILLS

                                             

                                               Paths.....



All pictures by SHEILA KUMAR except where otherwise mentioned.
All images are subject to copyright.


These were tracks, bridle paths and trails I took on a recent holiday in the Kumaon foothills.


















                                                  We each are on a journey 
                                                  Each journey has a path 
                                               As we travel to our futures
                                          We carry the knowledge of our pasts.

                                             We each leave a trail behind us

                                             Which twists and turns it so

                                      And though alone we may feel small 

                                            As one we make one whole. 

                                   Our footprints are already left before us

                                   As we take each one newly step-by-step 

                                       They were laid out ahead of us 

                                         Before our journeys begun.
                                                                            Alice Affi.





















                                         There`s a path that leads to Nowhere 
                                                     In a meadow that I know,
                                              Where an inland island rises
                                                  And the stream is still and slow;
                                                    There it wanders under willows,
                                                 And beneath the silver green
                                                Of the birches' silent shadows 
                                                Where the early violets lean.
                                          Other pathways lead to Somewhere, 
                                                       But the one I love so well  
                                           Has no end and no beginning— 
                                                 Just the beauty of the dell,
                                                Just the wind-flowers and the lilies.       

                                                                            Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

























                              Thoughtful and timeless, no tangibility.
                              Laughing with friends, letting things be. 
                              Absorbing a sunset, much color in opaque.
                             Simple and earthy, a rainbow's soft touch.
                           Options are endless, secret trails reveal much. 
                            Closing my eyes and feeling life near;
                                  walking a line, wanting me clear. 
                       Knowing I am loved;  just hearing the wind.

                                These are the paths I choose to befriend.
                                                                                        Julie Buck.


















                                      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;

                                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,

                         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.

                         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.
                                                                       Robert Frost







All pictures by SHEILA KUMAR except where otherwise mentioned.
All images are subject to copyright.

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