Upon closer examination of the vicinity, I now espied a narrow stone walkway running off toward the left side of the house. Until this very moment I had missed it, as the path was rather overgrown with vines and many years accumulation of fallen foliage.
Determined to effect an entrance into my new abode, I proceeded to push aside the fallen branches and other detritus, continuing steadily with my task until I was able, at last, to see the path’s stonework in full.
Now that I could view the path clearly, I was struck by the odd cut of its constituent stones. Each slab, in and of itself, appeared completely random in form, a product of Nature’s capricious whim. Yet the stones fit together, each to its neighbors, with startling exactness. Taken as a whole, they formed a perfect if utterly wild mosaic.
Each stone of this path had obviously been fashioned with loving care by a master stonecutter. But to what end? Who would go to such extreme effort only to achieve such an idiosyncratic result? There were mysteries here, to be sure.
Quickening my resolve, I set upon the path with steady gait. Yet the moment I turned the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks, and gasped aloud in utter astonishment.