I think I found the door to Narnia

A few months ago, I was traveling down the highway, a highway that I have probably traveled at least a thousand times in my lifetime, something caught my eye. This "something" I had never seen before.

You see, I have this theory, that when a person travels a road, a highway, even a path, on a regular basis, that they tend to look at the same things over and over just because that's where their eye naturally leads them. When Gene and I worked in Kansas City, that left a lot of time to think about traveling, and the things around me since my loving husband ended up doing most of the driving.

I tested this theory one day by looking at the opposite of things that I normally looked at every single day. My theory held up, and I started seeing things I'd never seen before. Things that I never knew was there! There's a whole other world... and it's just on the other side of the road!

But this one is different. This I'd never ever seen before over a span of 40 years.

This mailbox.

So it's a mailbox? Big whoop.

Except this is a special mailbox. It's a random mailbox, with an address on it, but no house. No business. No driveway. Nothing. It's like someone said "Oh this looks like a nice random place to put this" and stuck it in the ground. There is no signs of any former residence even close to this mailbox.

I find it odd that for many years (I assume) this mailbox has been in one location, and I just never noticed it. So now, when I travel past it, I always look to see if it's still there, and my mind wanders and I start to imagine why.

Of course there's always thoughts of two star crossed lovers, torn apart by miles, or race, or families, or whatever, and this is their last form of communication. Wait, I think that was a movie.

But in the back of my mind, I like to think that maybe there really is something there like an invisible town, and that this is just the entrance to another plane that we can't see. Heck, maybe there's a castle right there in "plain sight" and all of us look to the east instead of the west and no one has quite noticed it yet.

At the very least, it's given me something to ponder on road trips. The question "why?" or "Who?" or sometimes "When?" and I wonder to myself, what would happen if I would send the mailbox a piece of mail. Would the mailman know where to leave it? Does *HE* know? Would I get an answer? And who would the answer come from?

So many questions!

In the meantime, it's made me fall in love with that old mailbox because of the very idea of the *possibilities* that it holds. It makes me want to pull it out of the ground, bring it home, and selfishly protect it, but I don't. Because what if I have discovered the "door" to another place. Taking it down would destroy it for everyone, forever.

So for now, it stays, and when I drive by I smile at my random secret and think about who's home today, and who checked the mail. The flag is up, is there outgoing mail? Should I check to make sure? Why did they leave the door open.

Oh, and if you know the answer behind this mailbox... please don't tell me. I'd hate to find out that there's a simple answer to what seems to be a complex question. If I've learned anything in my lifetime, it's that sometimes the dream or wish or "what if" that's in your head, should stay there, because with that there's always a hope, a wish or a dream. If you get an answer to just that, then sometimes it's not the answer that you want, and well, once you know the answer, you can't go back.

Kinda like Santa.