We had been walking through a wooded area most of the morning. I was admiring the fall colors of the leaves when a faint smell of smoke reached me. There was a valley ahead, and just above the top of the trees, I made out a chimney. It was the source of the smell.
Our trail led right to the house. In the clearing beyond, there was a middle aged man practicing with a bow.
As we approached, my friend told me, “Every time I pass this house, I stop and give an archery lesson to this man.”
When we got closer, the man saw us, stopped his practicing, and waited for us to approach. My friend introduced me, but then they immediately became engrossed in a discussion about the finer points of archery.
As they talked, I noticed multiple targets arrayed at the edge of the field that still had arrows in them. I wandered over to inspect them.
The target farthest on the left had no arrows close to the bullseye. As I moved to my right, from target to target, the patterns of the arrows got progressively tighter, with a couple exceptions. They generally showed a clear indication of improving skill. The improvement was great at first, but became incrementally smaller and smaller as I moved down the line.
As I approached the end, my friend yelled across the clearing at me to beware, and the man began shooting at a fresh target. He shot nine arrows, the same number that was in each of the targets I had been inspecting. When he finished, he and my friend walked over to the target to inspect his performance.
The man picked the target up and positioned it at the end of the line. When he looked, he saw that the pattern was tighter than the last, and he broke out in a big smile.
My friend clapped him on the back. He then told me, “Each time I stop for a new lesson, we save the target, so we can measure the progress. He is getting better, but he still has some way to go. Perhaps by the time he is old and grey, he will hit the bullseye with every shot.”
We walked up to the house and shared a cool drink before continuing on our way.