I walk alone on a pebble-filled path at twilight and the electric sound of insects being killed echoes through the blackening crepuscule. My foot suddenly trips on a larger rock wedged in the dirt road, I reset my balance and continue walking. A dirt road like this would normally conjure up a lot of dust while I drag my worn shoes across it, but the muggy air makes the texture of the road much more soggy than usual. I realize that no matter what happens to me, my state of being and reason for existence will always be something beyond my own control. Like the dusty dirt road becoming soft mud after a light rain, I too become watered down after a time of hardship, but this doesn’t mean that my desires are any different. The simplicity and serenity of this seemingly dismal scene around me displays so much more than a run of the mill service road and I realize that it doesn’t matter what happens to the path because only destiny lies at the end of it and the path points in that direction no matter what.