I can’t draw or paint like I could once. That’s how it goes. I need to accept what I can’t change. For now, the doctor says that the best thing for me is exercise. In Oregon, spectacular trails abound. Lisa and I spend a lot of our time exploring them. One is at a lake a short drive from our house. It traces the water’s edge. For many years, we have used it to get to a good swimming spot. About halfway to our favorite beach, another path branches off. It leads away from the lake and up a steep hill. The extra work to move away from a refreshing plunge on a hot day isn’t very inviting. Even so, last Summer, we tried it. After a grueling climb, we reached a breathtaking vista atop a ridge. The view was amazing. It justified the effort involved to the point that we have returned on several occasions since then, the most recent being a couple of days ago (we forgot the camera — imagine the same scene with a little snow). Why do I mention it? Here’s what occurred to me: just because you’re on a different path doesn’t mean that you can’t encounter some beauty along the way.