I didn’t think I had five stray minutes, but why? Most of my minutes are stray. Stray as in “moving away aimlessly from a group or from the right course or place;” stray when I lean on the wall and strain to hear the song of the elusive oriole; stray when I pick up an old gardening book and lose myself in Victorian hot beds; stray when I lie on the sofa and stare out of the window at the clouds. I have an affection for stray animals, stray thoughts, stray people, those apart from the group. So why did I think I didn’t have five stray minutes? Probably because I’m too busy straying.
One thought on “Astray”
If we do not stray, we might never find ourselves. Actually, I prefer that it the past tense: If we had not strayed, we might never have found ourselves.
Staring out the window at the clouds is an excellent occupation! The State should pay people who are really good at it!
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