While plowing his plot, a farmer stops and looks over at a neighbor’s virgin field, a slender strip with long, lush grass covering soft, gentle mounds of un-tilled land.
He imagines how it would feel to turn that new soil, to watch his plow blade split the grass to reveal moist ground beneath; the smell of freshly-turned soil would make it a pleasant task.
Still, his old plot is familiar, level and well-turned. Any stones that caused him grief had long since been removed. Plowing is much easier when you know the land and there are no surprises.
Not so with plowing a virgin field; it may seem an appealing notion at first, but it undoubtedly hides sharp rocks and stubborn, grasping roots that turn plowing into tediousness.
He smiles briefly and sighs, knowing such notions are best kept in one’s head, then turns back and starts plowing anew.