Blazing My Trail

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

There’s always been lots of talk about the path a person takes in life. I don’t think of it that way – to me, it’s a trail, not a path.

A path is worn by the steps of the many that have walked this way before us. A path declares itself, commanding, “Come this way!” Water yields to the furrow of a path, for it is easier to follow the path than find another way to low ground.

Trails are marked by blazes which may or may not always be sufficient to the task. Foot traffic is infrequent enough, or the surface durable enough, to keep a furrow from being worn in. Trails beckon to the attentive, “Come, this way!” Water sometimes impedes trails, crossing them on the way to low ground.

It’s easy enough as a Gaiaped to see how trails better suit my course and direction than do paths or roads. There are times I’m just not going to be able to go the exact way I had intended, and that’s going to happen no matter how much I plan. Planning is good, being able to think on your feet is really good.

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