A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues

Photo by Ralph Benko

by Wendy Packer and Ralph Benko

Let’s call the meandering path “taking the scenic route.”

Taking the superhighway gets us to our destination faster. No question. Superhighways also deny us the best views. They the texture of the terroir. They obscure the local color. They conceal the indigenous restaurants. They obscure the odd roadside attractions.

A great poet extolled the wonder of meandering. Dear old loopy Walt Whitman, in The Song of Myself, sums it up beautifully:

I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

…

Creeds and schools in abeyance,

Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,

I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,

Nature without check with original energy.

…

A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not hazard the span or make it impatient,

They are but parts, any thing is but a part.

See ever so far, there is limitless space outside…