I won’t lie, this time; I’m not that tall. In fact, most everyone I currently know is either marginally shorter than me, or noticeably not at my eye level, but the focus of the walk is not just about who’s next to you. It’s about where you are, and where that place takes you. Towering skyscrapers above don’t make me feel inferior, and the minuscule passerby below don’t grant superiority, rather a view of dimension from in between. A different angle; a high line of sight, unbeknownst to those not standing on that forested path through cemented steel jungle. All is stationary to the eye focused on the path, not its end. The path has a life of its own, and a front row spectacle of your appreciation of its existence, and continued allowance of immersion. A museum may hold many interpretations, but a journey in one direction, open to many others, has the potential to lead oneself somewhere…