The rain that took the way in

Then the rain came and took the way in.

I was not there. Somebody sent me the picture: red water running straight down the line of the path, one bank torn open with roots hanging out of it. The water had carried big stone onto the track and cut a hole out of the middle of it. You could not walk up and you could not cross.

This is the thing about the place. The path is the lowest line on that hillside, so when the hill sheds water the path is the drain. It is not near the stream. In the rain, it is the stream.

Until that day nobody had thought about a road at all. After it, there was nothing else to think about.