Maps have fascinated me ever since I was a young boy. I remember having spent many hours one summer in our public library, flipping through the pages of the oldest books I could find because somehow I thought I would discover a long lost map to buried treasure. I didn’t discover a treasure map, but I probably convinced the librarian that I was a fast reader.
On dreary winter afternoons, I sometimes sit by the fireplace with a warm drink in one hand and a map in the other. I find a trail on the map and follow it across green meadows, through fragrant forests, over rippling streams. I feel a warm summer breeze touching my face as my mind calls up memories of past hikes and visions of future ones. I can hardly suppress a giggle. I wonder what the other boys are doing.
(c) 2014 Ken Klug