The Romance of a Pathway

Trite metaphors aside, sometimes paths are difficult to follow.  Sometimes they’re so indistinct or overgrown you need to be walking behind the man with the machete, clearing the way;  other times, they’re inviting, with dappled shade and soft layers of leaf litter, sometimes they’re formal promenades demanding a little flâneur, or romantic lamp-lit pathways along the waters’ edge – but one thing’s for sure:  they always draw me on, as if there’s a siren, or a great secret, at the other end.

How about we succumb to the romance of the pathway?

Thanks Ailsa, for this week’s Travel Theme.

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34 thoughts on “The Romance of a Pathway

  1. Such stories each of these paths holds! I love, love, LOVE the “through the paddyfield” because it brings up so many questions. Where is he going? Is he always prepared with an umbrella? Why are his shoulders hunched…is he sad, cold, or just thinking?
    Your photos are always so much more than pictures. thank you for that!

    • And I love love love your dear enthusiasm! 🙂

      In some parts of Sri Lanka people do remember their brollies, especially if it’s been raining and their house is a long walk away from the bus stop through the paddy fields!

      The day in question it had been pouring all night and morning, and though it was only drizzling at the time, I’d say the old man was feeling damp and cold. I watched him for a good while. When he got down from the road into the paddy field he first washed his feet and legs (getting rid of mud and tiny stones, I guess from the puddles at the side of the road) and then set off across that vast expanse of swaying green to a house I couldn’t see – so I guess he wasn’t finding it as romantic as I was! 🙂

  2. Absolutely stunning pathways indeed! The lamplit pathway looks soooo romantic. Great photo’s for the entry hon. Thanks for sharing. 🙂 *hugs*

  3. Your words imbue these images with more romance than they already exude! Love the path through the bamboo. And the paddy shot takes me back to my childhood when we frolicked on paths between lush green fields quite like these 🙂

    • The paddy field shot is so typical Sri Lanka and I find myself fighting the urge to romanticise it because of course it must be hell to have to walk through the paddy fields in the wet, carrying your groceries, or your child, trying not to slip and wishing home was a bit closer …

      I love imagining you frolicking, Madhu – what carefree days!

  4. You know I am alway a fan of a good pathway. These are lovely and I want to follow every one. My problem is always forgetting that as far as I go, I always have to turn around and go back. I always want to go just a little further to see what is around the next bend.

    • I do that too! It used not to be such a problem, except to make me late – which was only a problem when work was involved – but these days I notice I sometimes need a bit of a lie down when I eventually get back to base!

  5. I love the title of this piece. For many people the path is a means to an end. Your description reminds us it is much more than that. These beckon one to follow it and take it all in.

  6. It all depends if it is a path you feel you have to take, and have no passion to do so – then it feels onerous and constricted. If it’s a path you are at leisure to wander, explore and diverge from, then it is a wonder. If it is a familiar path to home at the end of the day or a trip then it is comforting knowing it will lead you home. I’ve trodden all of these, as I’m sure you have.
    Across the bridge to the temple looks appealing to me right now 🙂

  7. I love the idea of the “romance of the pathway.” Hiking slim redrock canyons in the SW USA, gives one a similar feeling of being drawn-in to see what’s around the next bend.

  8. When I was a child, I played in woods that were filled with old growth trees on land that had never been disturbed by farming of logging. There is just something primeval about those places. We saw paths made by animals and imagined pathways that were not there, I’d guess. There was something magical in those woods. I have come to find a similar magic in my own garden. There are wonderful things going on under the canopy and out of sight. I like this very much! 🙂

    • Ah, George – what a magical picture you paint of your childhood in the forest. I can imagine finding pathways the animals have made through the undergrowth, and wondering whether every little trail might lead somewhere. Just bliss. And you’re right – there’s a whole world moving around under our noses, in our gardens … Lovely to see you. Thanks for stopping by 🙂

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