How I miss places like this!
I grew up next to a woods which is now gone, paved over by Democrats who then go on to prattle about how much they care for the environment… but I digress.
Among the notable–and somewhat mystifying–features of our little forest was a path made of cinders, which we called Soldiers Path. Deep in the woods, past Hangman’s Tree (from which you could see Portugal, if you climbed all the way up), this cinder path started out from nowhere and finished up at nowhere. Time had swallowed up all traces of whatever two destinations the path had once linked together.
I’d like to know why I thought “Hessians” were giant insects–moths too big to fly. But I have since outgrown that belief.