A few days ago I ambled down to the village square and saw some people whom I had met earlier on the Camino and they invited me to join them for a drink.
The following conversation too place; I am the respondent.
Which route did you take today?
What do you mean?
The high or the low?
Um…
Well, what did you see?
It was remarkable, I saw no other pilgrims all day! Where were they all?
Was it steep?
Yes! It was lovely and so isolated.
Okay, so you took the high route which is much more difficult and we went the low way.
Oh! Well, it was beautiful.
Didn’t you see the directions at the turn?
Um…
At the roundabout?
No.
Long story cut short, I had missed the decision point and taken the perfect alternative and had a wonderful day. I would love to say this happened because I was lost in contemplation of the meaning of life or a deep literary problem, but it is untrue.
I feel sure this must be some metaphor for life.
Or pure serendipity, bless it.