Looking out, as the sun came up over Mount Hallowell, as I wondered at my restlessness, as I tried to think of how to do the work that is waiting for me, listed on a scrap of paper, the list enumerating the hours, I saw the deer come out of the woods. So I went to stand about twenty yards away, talking softly, and around us the robins were making their last songs to territory and creation.
Go elsewhere your own way, lonely and wanting. Or stay and be early: next to deep woods inhabit old orchards. --Philip Booth, from "How to See Deer"
2 thoughts on ““…next to deep woods””
There’s all kinds of time. Lists rarely capture any of them.
Beautifully true, Thom.