We started out on a new path for our morning walk. It was paved and landscaped for both bikers and pedestrians. So inviting we decided to follow it further, looking forward to the next adventure but also having a preconceived idea of what was ahead. Within a quarter of a mile, maybe less the path dramatically changed. The newly paved walkway gave way to old asphalt. Bumpy under the stroller tires. The landscape now wild and overgrown. 

We continued on the path despite the unexpected change. Still in search of adventure. Under a bridge, past horse stables that seemed forgotten and yet still inhabited, we found still two more changes in the path. Finally it led down into the actual belly of the river bed (here in California that means a big cement trench with a small trickle of water). We continued on, perhaps a little more wary of what was ahead. 

Through a tunnel that smelled like pee. Under a bridge that carried a train right over our heads. All of it magic to my children. We walked for a while until we finally turned around. None of us really wanted to, each bend blocking what might be up ahead. Now comfortable and even excited with the expectation for the path to continue to change. 

The path of my daily life. I start out wanting the clean pavement, the beautiful landscaping and the easy terrain. And then from day to day, it changes. Some days it's as expected, other days it's a tunnel that smells like pee. What I continue to try to remember is the beauty of life IS the days the path changes, not the days it stays the same.