There is always a path. From the trampled down grass to the newly lain tarmac, there is always a new place to go; A new path to follow. The beaten down soil keeps its thorough way definite, never growing plants again so that we can journey on. And although the snow of winter and the dead leaves of autumn may obscure the path from view and make it seem like it cannot be trodden upon, it is always there. It is always waiting for one more person to trudge over its battered plain and carry on until one path cuts off and all that can be seen is a dead end. And when that dead end is eventually reached, a person must look to find a new path to follow. A fork in the road for an option, a straight road for fate. If there is no path to be seen then a new path must be made. More grass trampled, More battering down, more tar poured, more waiting. Because there must always be a different place to travel to, a new place to discover. There must always be a path.