Like Driftwood

Providence invites people and events in and out of our lives. Most times, without our permission or knowing. Always a surprise, always an adventure. 
An adventure is always some type of exploration, clothed with an element of the unknown. Providence is an adventure. Always (ultimately) good.

I went on a ride last evening to a place (picture) I discovered last year, west end of my city. Sat there for a while just looking out beyond, and remembered a multiple hr conversation I had with Mike, a stranger who had approached me. As I was leaving that place yesterday, I surprisingly ran into him. I hadn’t seen him since that first and only time last year. He remembered me, and I him. We exchanged a couple of minutes, and went about our own separate paths. As all was meant to be. 
It’s a natural rhythm, like the driftwood. To have shared significant time talking to another human person who is full of wonder and mystery one moment, and then have it naturally not exist the next. This must be completely absurd, in the Camus sense of the word. However, my first premise is that there is meaning in the world, amid the unknown, amid the pains and joys of adventure.