Tuesday, December 24, 2024

In the woodlot

 It’s hard to say why I love working in the woodlot, but there’s this:

A rowdy goose came over low. It was not a flight of geese, just one goose. He was fast and loud. 

The goose went by, and I went back to work. It’s not even a feeling with me. I heard him and didn’t feel connected to the world — I was connected. I don’t recall a sense of a separate me enjoying (having a feeling of enjoyment) at the sound of a goose. There was just the goose.

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