Thoughts on a Walk Home

I've always been intrigued by footpaths. I enjoy exploring town made trails, getting behind things and around things and coming out again in unexpected places. But what really fascinates me are the paths people make themselves.

Walking the trails in Oakville, Seguin always laughed at the way I was so tempted by the little footpaths that would branch off the main route here and there. Seeing where they led was always rewarding; sometimes to a backyard, other times a hidden fort, sometimes to secret party places with discarded furniture, beer bottles and fire pits. Sometimes they were just an even quicker route elsewhere. Other times they led to a pretty, hidden clearing, a spot that would feel secret and special to each person who had discovered it.

What's really neat to me though, is how paths like this are made. It's the same idea as what I learned in school about the silk road. As it was explained to me, it was a trade route that came about naturally over time, as opposed to something that had been planned and built. As traders made their way from point A to point B and back again, they started learning which routes were quickest and easiest. Over time, they became the established 'ways to go' that everyone knew to take.

That, for me, is the coolest thing about foot paths, back trails, and short cuts. They grow out of the necessity of a number of people who all want a quicker, easier or more pleasant way to get to the same place. And as these different people discover the same routes and use them time and time again, the earth hardens under their feet, the brush and undergrowth stop sprouting there, and paths are born.

Here's what got me thinking about this today. I seldom meet another person when I walk these paths. I know they must get use because they don't get overgrown, but I didn't realize until this morning just how often one of my shortcuts is frequented.

Coming home from a walk to the store, I cut through a vacant lot that takes me from the main road onto the end of my street. As it had snowed the night before, I clambered over the bank expecting to see the faint indentation of my trail buried under a covering of white. Instead, I saw it nicely packed down with the footprints of a number of people who had already passed through that morning. It was neat reminder of how these paths are really a community creation, and without all these people who had come before, they wouldn't exist at all.

Pretty neat, huh?