It surely didn't look like the way I came, yet I don't even remember where I got off the right path. Being lost really isn't so bad. I ususally embrace those times when I'm speeding down the highway not knowing exactly when I'll see a guidepost or sign to indicate that I am, indeed, on the way to where I want to be.
Today was not one of those days. I had a rental car to return, a plane to catch and I was tired beyond tired. As I continued on Hwy 13, I increasingly became concerned that I was lost. Stopping for directions was dicey since there were no service stations, towns and no one with the exception of a man in a beat up old pickup selling whirlygigs by the side of the road. His impromptu "yard sale" didn't seem to be attracting business and I was too leery to ask for his help. Instead, I called Natalie who bailed me out with directions. A turn onto another highway was necessary before I was again headed in the direction of the big city.
How easy is it to get on the wrong path and yet the relief is so sweet when we find ourselves back headed in the right direction.