Bedlam Farm Journal: June 6 2007
 
   Cloudy day, cool. 
   Paths are the secret footprints of a farm, I sometimes think. There is the path the sheep make when they come up and down the hill to the feeders and water tubs. There is the path the cows make when they come down from the pasture to get water and lie down under their shelter. There is the path the dogs make when they run from the porch to the gate to bark and greet visitors. There are paths the deer make as they went their way through the woods at night.  There are old paths that only appear after rain or the melting of ice, that were worn down many years ago, perhaps by wagons, or horses or plows.
  These paths tell stories, record histories, are individualistic and idiosyncratic signatures, and it is important, once in awhile, to stop and notice them, to find them and try and divine their messages, and understand the stories they tell. Some are quite old, some are brand new, and I just realized, after five  years of living here, that new ones are being created all the time.