The Road Less Traveled

Every day I try to incorporate as many ways as possible to reduce stress (which is a part of my "living in the moment" strategy). A strategy I've used for many years now during my commute across town, is to take a more scenic route. At least, for a part of it anyway. Traveling east on Paseo Del Norte, I usually exit at 2nd street instead of going down to where the freeway on- ramp is. I go south on 2nd and turn left on a small side street called Los Ranchos Road. This little stretch of road is probably just a half a mile long, but it has given me many joyful moments. A few weeks ago, after a torrental downpour the night before, nearly all of the road was under water. As I turned onto the road, I could see all this standing water; with no wind or recent traffic on it, is was like a large glass mirror. In it, I could see the reflection of the Sandias Mountain and the soft lavendar colors of the sun rising behind it. It was absolutely breathtaking! I only wished that I had my camera with me to capture that fleeting moment in time. Other joyful vignettes have been the freshly mowed alfalfa bundled up and drying, or the early morning mist laying heavy on the field. The fence wire laden with dew drops and spider webs. Or, the gorditas (little gourds) that lay along the roadside in the fall. This morning, however, I think was one of the most delightful of scenes. As I turned onto the street, crossing hurriedly from one side of the street to the other (in front of me) was a hen with about 12 little chicks running with her. Those little legs had to have been working hard to keep up with mama! Immediately, I was flooded with childhood memories of Moloka'i. My grandma always seemed to have a cardboard box lined with newspaper and a tungsten bulb hanging over it to keep the baby chicks warm and cozy. I think she even did the egg incubation too; all of this careful tending ensured her of a maintaining her chicken population. She raised them for the eggs and the meat, but also for my uncle who rasied fighting cocks (hey, its a part of our Filipino culture you know). Memories of coddling those fuzzy little chicks, playing out in the chicken coop and yes, even the sound of roosters crowing in the early morning bring a sense of comfort and warmth to me. All this happiness brought forward into my conciousness in just a few seconds! Because I do make it a point to take the road less traveled, I feel as though I am bestowed with precious moments like this as a reward. Something I surely would've missed had I taken the more "direct route".