Paths on the Farm

When we first moved here, there were many thorny plants which would scratch and snare the tender foot. Some plants would burn the skin if you brushed up against them. And there were rattlesnakes and other biting and stinging creatures lurking in the grass. So I wore heavy boots as if going to war. I wore long, coarse pants that covered my legs.

Now, after a year of walking to the needful and pleasant places, we have worn sandy paths. The thorny and weedy plants have retreated, leaving behind sand and rocks and some hardier flowers growing along the paths. Now I wear shorts and sandals.

The land has not been conquered by my feet. If I stray off the paths, I will encounter the land's strongest warriors, waiting to pierce and sting. If I give up those paths, for even a short time, those warriors will return and the fight will begin again.

We do not fight, for now, but rather an uneasy truce has been established, as if nature is saying, "I will cede this much to you, but no more"