At the end of the park there is a trail that leads down a wooded hill into God-knows-where. This is a source of great vexation to Shimmer. He loves trails: paths, walkways, animal trails–he can’t wait to follow it to see what’s at the end. So, this trail at the end of the park is of great interest to him, but too steep to go down. Normally, Shimmer is somehow able to convince me his bad ideas are sensible and I’ll go down with him to parts unknown. But not this hill. It’s dark and scary and steep. Rocks and roots wait to trap us and we have no idea if we’ll end up on a street or someone’s backyard. Besides, as I explain to Shimmer, every hill we go down is one we have to go up.
Today we passed the trail again and Shimmer reflexively pulled me towards it and we stood at the edge. We both look down and I thought, if we were younger, if we were stronger, we would do it. But we’re not, so we won’t, and Shimmer doesn’t try to convince me otherwise. Perhaps not every trail has to have an ending.