I love anything like this. A path that is no longer walked yet was walked so often for so long. A path that was in demand and over time the trend changed. The path wasn’t removed, it slowly faded as nature had time to thrive.
Whether a shipwreck, an abandoned building or even a whole town, I love the eerie-ness. The new silence. That a place can change so much, people not even noticing it was something below the weeds. I find religion is becoming more and more like this. The path is still there, there are just more that are slowly being beaten into the ground elsewhere with ever increasing footsteps. Footsteps in the form of forums and blogs, protests and books.
When I hear street preachers, I feel they are desperately trying to chop down all the weeds and point to the old path that is less and less appealing. Taking on a duty that would surely be that of the council, motivated by an emotional attachment to the path and hoping others feel the same, with the odd threat of the perils awaiting us for choosing a new route. I want to go up to so many of these people and just place my hand on their shoulder and let them know they don’t have to take on such a duty. The choice to actually walk with so many others down a new road is liberating and entirely optional.
Don’t be brainwashed by anyone to feel such a duty is yours, you don’t need to be offended when people find a new way. You can walk with them. It is not your duty to be emotionally attached to anyone else’s work. Some people are and will not be moved. Thankfully I know some people will be changed and not look back.