It was around the turn of the century . . . or so it seemed, historically considered to be a relatively

peaceful time in man's tumultuous history, a period of no wars and little strife, a time when people

could take a deep breath and exclaim, "How good it is to be alive!"

We were young, of no particular age, just young, and yet old, not in the sense of deterioration but 

wisdom. Old and young at the same time . . . how strange, yet wonderful, still somehow, it felt natural

like falling off a log, as if acquired through countless ages.

We lived in a community called Lifelong. Some "old-timers" would at times call it "Ashland" and

even claimed at one time it was in which case most who were "newcomers" would smile respectfully

and nod. Lifelong was a town neither large nor small, actually just right. It had many of the faces of

the "Big Places", outdoor theaters, quaint shops and an especially beautiful park, yet still retained

the "feel" and ambiance of an agrarian village, after all, the surrounding area consisted of vast

stretches of pasture and vineyards. To the north, steeply rose rolling hills. Southward rising rapidly

were densely forested mountains called the See-Can't-Yous, claimed by some to have magical

powers. The openness of the hills and alleys allowed plenty of space for the youth and the young

at heart to roam and use their imaginations for wholesome explorations and "wisdom gathering."

Transportation in Lifelong was primarily by "Hicycle", heavier luggage being transported by more

elaborate versions of the same. The broad sidewalks gaily lined with flowers and a variety of

shade trees, allowed plenty of room for walking. People would casually browse about the open

From the Harbors of Light Collection: Inspirational writings, short stories, literature,
poetry and prose from Brad Kalita, founder of Gathering Light ... a retreat.

Forward ~ Legend of Ashland, page 2.

Back ~ Sacred Passages.