The Obscure Path

We walked by the river every day.  There’s a path, well-marked after years of use by fishermen and now by us.  Many times, the man took the clippers to clear thorny vines and encroaching brush as we walked.  He carefully kicked aside sticks strewn from the wind while he watched… Continue reading

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His Heart

The man walks the paths lined with thick vegetation, dotted with blackberry bushes and trees. He points to the patches of grass sown several years ago, the wildflowers, the little pond for the deer and fawns. Hours, days, weeks, months, years, all spent to make it the beauty it is… Continue reading

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