Feather in the Wind

feather in the wind

When I run the third of a mile to the gate for the morning newspaper, as I did this cool morning, the wind in my ears keeps me from hearing an owl in the stream bed, the skitter of squirrels in the scrub oaks, the whoosh of turkey wings when I startle them from their roosts in the trees. But when I poke along in the woods, it’s a mindful walking that takes in all the forest wants to offer. It’s a treasure hunt; an endless buffet for the soul.

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