Far away in a small village there was a river quite wide and deep so that the only way to cross was over a narrow bridge. People had built the bridge using just two big logs.

One day a goat was munching on fresh, spicy pennycress. The goat had eaten all the luscious plants on his side of the river and saw more food on the other side of the bridge.

Meanwhile, another goat on the other side of the river was smelling the delicious cinnamon of the wallflowers. He ran from one exploding orange bloom to the next excitedly sniffing around each beautiful bouquet. The goat then saw an entire hillside of wallflowers on the other side of the river. Perhaps he could get by on the log bridge.

The two goats found one another on the middle of the bridge, crossing in opposite directions. The bridge was so narrow that there was no space for both of them to pass.

Neither of the goats wanted to go back. The first goat gruffed, “You should go back since I am stronger than you.”

The other goat bemoaned with a chuckle, “No goat in this land is stronger than me. If you know what’s best for you, you’ll turn around and let me pass.”

Both of them argued for a while. Then, one goat put down his horns to fight to show it strength. The other goat matched with a bow. And then . . . CRACK!

They rammed and knocked and soon their horns locked. Furiously, they struggled until both lost their balance and fell into the water below. The swift current of the stream carried them away in deep water and both crawled out of the river on the side that they started.

After a time, the goats dried out but each still fixated on the opposite shores. One longing for pennycress, the other for the sweet smell of wallflowers. Soon they both had the idea to cross the bridge again.

Again, they met in the middle and quarreled, demanding to be let through. two goats came on the same bridge in opposite directions.

“Out of my way!” the first goat ordered.

“I’ll buck you into the water if you don’t back off!” Shouted the second goat.

Again, they rammed and knocked and soon their horns locked.

SPLASH! Again, the goats toppled and tumbled into the water and floated downstream until they could each climb out again on their own side. Almost in a race, the goats ran as fast as bees to honey, as fast as a fly escaping a frog’s tongue, as fast as a star’s twinkle until they faced each other again on the log bridge.

This time, however, when the first goat threatened, “I’ll get you this time.

The second goat had an idea. “Stop!” The goat insisted. “If we both fight, we will fall into the river and maybe drown. Instead I have a plan. I will wait here for you to cross, and you traverse the bridge. When you are safe on my side, I will cross.”

Then the wise goat stepped aside, and the other goat trotted over the bridge and went straight for a big patch of pennycress. The wise goat spent the rest of that day and many more delighted by the hillside of wallflowers.