In the deep woods, we pass by a very old stone wall, most of it tumbling down and  crumbling back into the earth, the wall no longer something to stand on, to keep the cows and sheep inside. Fate, who seems to know no boundaries or walls, loves to hop on the wall and walk across the top of it for long ways, hopping from one stone to another, never knocking one over or disturbing it. How can she do this, we wonder? I shouldn’t think a squirrel could do it, but Fate goes where she wants, missing nothing, knows every single stone.