Clear the Path
I walked down along the edge of the asphalt pathway cutting through the park grounds. Ahead on the surface, a snapped oak twig lay right across the painted white trail marker, sharp ends pointing straight up where passing runners or strollers could catch them. I walked forward without rushing, planted my boots firmly on the rough pavement, and took a two-handed grip on the dry bark. Bracing my legs, I dragged the dead branch steadily sideways until it came to rest safely in the soft grass beside the curb. The trail is completely level again.

