Down the Long Hall

A passage - morguefileAt the end of the long hall awaits…who knows what? But sometimes the hallway itself is a kind of hospitality, a welcome into the journey rather than the destination.

When have you welcomed being on a journey, without too much concern for where you would end up?

2 thoughts on “Down the Long Hall”

  1. When we lived in Western Massachusetts, sometimes my husband and I would go for drives out into the Berkshires and other rural towns. We took whatever turns looked interesting. We often didn’t really know where we were, but we could figure it out eventually. Often we just kept going until we came to a junction with a numbered route, then we knew how to get home from there, though the scenery was still new to us.

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