Suppose we are answering the most important question for verification. So only one question is left: How will we live this life?
Despite all thinking technology and feelings of divine answer – philosophy, poetry, text, helping, directly involved in the adequate lifting higher survival. Under the Overtory of a hundred thousand sysapses, a greater animal keeps losing the way to the wilderness of searching.
Not other animals. “Dusts and cry for their situation,” said Walt Whitman Grass leaves (philosophical and poetic and self-helping ones), “Lives arose in darkness and crying for their sins, who have been able to discuss their responsibility to God,”
The age and a half after Whitman, Annie Dillard looks at another animal to live these lives. Allowing a muskrat to be its teacher in Bugsterle, relates his cleanliness with Weasel in the story published in his 1982-annual revelations pocket To instruct the speaking stonelater included in Plural: old and new recesses (library) – One of my favorite annual books.
He writes:
I hit the weasel scared me, and it took turns.
Twenty minutes from my house, in the quarry and across the highway, is Hollins in the pool, a strange piece, where I love sunset while living in the trunk of a tree. The lake of Hollins is also called Murray's pond; It includes two acres in the area near Tinker Creek in six inches of water and six thousand pills. In winter, brown-and-white stands between them, cut down their hoes; From the distant shore look like a miracle itself, they're done with a Nyackacle Nonchalance. Now, summer, steers are gone. Water lilies have been bloom and spread to a horizontal flight in Terrira to stop the Blackbirds, and the roof of dark roofs, crayfish, and carp.
This, I think you, SUBEURBIA. It is a five-sided travel road in three housing lines, although it is not visible here. There is 55-mph road at the end of one lake, and a nest of wood ducks in the other. Under all the forests Muskrat or beer can. The end of the other series of wood and wood, fields and wood, which are allocated through motorcycles – what empty turts are empty Turts who put eggs.
Therefore, I had crossed the main road, and I went into two shaped roads, and followed the motorcycle form in everything thanks for the wild rose and Ivy of ponds. Then I decided in the woods in a fallen tree where I live. This tree is very good. It makes dry bench, high quality in a high, fresh pool, jetty of the swush raised on a thorny coast between the shallow body and deep blue body.
The sun had just died. I was renewed from the lap of the Chech, looking at the lilies on my feet and trembles and the part of a fiery dream. The yellow bird was seen on my right and flying behind me. He was holding my eye; I was taken back – and next, in time, I looked down on Weasel, who was looking at me.
Weasel! I have never seen Him in the wild before. He was ten inches in length, diminished as a curve, a mixed ribbon, brown as fruit, soft, vertical. His face was fierce, smaller and pointed like mirrors; He could do a good arrow. There was just a chin dot, perhaps the importance of two brown hair, and broke the purple hair that spreads down down. He had two dark eyes I didn't see, any more than you see.
Meeting is incidents, changing things for us, changing things for us, and in the form of things that may occur, the time of binding and the opportunity is a hindrance to the meaning between two creatures. Dillard accounts:
Weasel was sent to death as he came out under the large wild shaggy that created a forest four feet away. I was announced to being twisted after the trunk of a tree. Our eyes were locked up, and someone threw the key.
Our appearance was as if two lovers, or fatal enemies, suddenly gathered when each one thought about something: blowing to the cemetery. It was a brilliant beating in the brain, or a sudden blow of the brain, and for all characters and close to attacked balloons. He poured our lungs. He killed the forest, and moved the fields, and took the pool; The earth is discouraged and softens in that black eye pit. If I and I looked at each other, our skull split across our shoulders. But we don't. We keep our lumps. So.
All meaningful integration is a way of decorating – until hidden and broken without a warning, leaving it converted. Since Weasel ended under the wild rose, Dillard finds himself as a creature “Dracca and Bala's responsibilities. He writes:
I would like to read, or remember, how you can live. I came to the lake Hollins and not so much to hear how much I learn how to live, freely, forgetting about it. That's, I don't think I can learn from the wild animal how I especially stay – will I catch my tail up, go with my upper feet, go with my feet with printing my hands? – But I can learn something unreasonable, something of the purity of life in the sense of the body and the dignity of living without choosing or motive. Weasel lives with the need and living in choosing, getting the need and dies at the end of their Talon. I would like to live as it should, as we weelel lives as it should. And I suspect that I'm like Weasel's, open for time and death without pain, see everything, remember anything, remembering the offer.
Because we are creatures made on time, changing our way to convert our time experience. You look at the chronometry of wildness:
Time and events are simply poured, sent, and submitted, as Blood was released from my stomach with the jugur bone.
It is difficult enough to get such a purity of being, difficult to share another. In the role of me is the best way, the best of love – the love of another, life love – writes:
Is the two living that way? Could the two live under the wild rose, and examine the lake, for the smooth mind of each one, and taken and can be frozen?
We can, you know. We can live in any way we want. People take poverty, chastity, and obedience – even peace – by choice. This item is to focus your ability to be skilled and intelligent, finding a very soft and live area and plug on that brush. This is lovely, not fighting. Weasel is not attacking “anything; the Weasel remains as he intended, expressing the complete freedom of one requirement.
I think it will be fine, and it's worth it, and listen, and you're pure, to reinforce your need and don't let them go, to go forth from where it takes. Then there is death, where you go anywhere, you don't differ. To take it and let them hold you up to the top or, until your eyes are burning and down; Your musky mushrooms are cut into the medicine, and let your bones, your bones tie, free the fields, and wood, it is unreasonable, unthinkable, unthinkable.
For many lessons to be drawn to the lives of other animals, learn about the time and the donkey, about the love and loss of Orca, and for life plastic.
