wayfinding
However heroic resistance may be, in most cases it enjoys only limited success, chipping away at the forces of oppression, slowing the advance of superior power, or obstructing the operation of infernal machinery, but only for a while.
It has been a long while since we walked along the river in the morning with the dog, what with one thing and another. We went this morning and were startled to see a large stretch of riverbank had been washed away in the winter storms, which tore away the first stretch of path and a good patch of someone’s yard. (The next storm will undermine the house itself, but, for their sake, that is hopefully a few years away.) Now, instead of a low sandy rise of vegetation above the water, there is now a stretch of river stone and sand and fallen trees. We made our way through the debris and, a little ways along, found the rest of the familiar path again, mostly unscathed, with a fresh layer of sand in stretches, as though in consolation for its change of course.