The rough ways smooth

 

I headed to the Center Drive seeking some wintry peace and quiet. Rowrbazzle! The roar of heavy equipment greeted me, as a paving crew tipped a dumpster into the Very Scary Perpendicular Position.

This was not the wistful sunset idyll I had sought. I got very interested in the technique of making the new blacktop path, rolling it out and then sweeping over it vigorously. The hot tar was actually steaming; I love that smell, it makes me itch to go traveling (as my Aunt Louie used to sigh, "Ah, the open road"). The guys seemed to take a lot of pride in their work. "You could hardly walk here before," one commented scornfully.  The smoother-outer vehicle looks like fun to operate, doesn't it?



Further along, I got my fill of pre-solstice tranquility. A stand of trees across the meadow reminded me of a performer taking a bow in one of those spotlights that shrinks down to a pinpoint, then disappears.









The Nethermead was all but empty except for a skater and her dog.

As I passed the crew again, and the luscious new blacktop, some Advent reading kept flickering in mind, about making paths level. Ah, here it is, thanks be to Google.

As is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet:
   "A voice of one calling in the desert,
   'Prepare the way for the Lord,
      make straight paths for him.
 Every valley shall be filled in,
      every mountain and hill made low.
   The crooked roads shall become straight,
      the rough ways smooth.
  And all mankind will see God's salvation.' "       Luke 3:4-6