Ham a lot and friends day 2

The young troop made their way to the foothills outside of town.

Here is where the path first split for the first time as the left the village.
There was the main trail --and then a side trail that led down into a bog.

No one really traveled on the side trail any more -- it had been long since abandoned.

Years and years ago there was another town at the end of that trail.
It had been a quaint village on the side of the river -- families lived their lives and things were normal.

One year there was a humungous rain and the river flooded -- the town knew that this would happen one day but they could not anticipate the amount of rain that would come.

It rained for days and days and the water kept getting higher.
Some of the towns folk had been smart and built their homes on stilts but one by one the water level raised up to and past the floor boards.

One by one the families left the village -- they could take the rain no more.
They picked up what valuables they could carry, brought their families together, and left for greener , and drier pastures.

It was said that an old man -- whom had been born in the village and lived their all his life, stayed behind to remain with his home.

No one ever went back -- the pain from the memories of lost lives to great, so know one knew what had happened to that man.

Yet, today, as the young friends made their way down the trail, they chose to take this different path.

The path was covered over with vegetation, thorns biting and scratching each and every step of the way -- yet the boys pushed on, feeling in some other sense that this was the past that they must walk