SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Sunday, Jan. 12, 2003 @ 7:45 pm
Smooth



I touched a porpise today.

We were walking along the dikes, the sun setting through a purpley sky and the planes shooting off over the sea. The tide was low revealing twisted knots of sea grasses, muddy places where ducks paddled for little things below.

It lay on its side between two rocks. I scrambled down to investigate. Kare watched from above, squirming with ideas of bacteria and fungus. It felt so soft and smooth... its fins so perfect, so perfect. Eyes grey with death.

We counted herons and watched them stalk fish in the ditches. A coyote yipyipped out across the logs and marsh. The sun went down.

There seems so much more to right now than reading text books. Since the show I've felt so off.

Today's animal theme began earlier when I was feeding. I found a bloated rat in the lambs' creep feeder. It had gorged itself with grain. I absolutely could not leave it there. I kicked it into a bucket and there it lay (digesting) while I finished up the chores. What to do with the rat? I took it out for a field trip to the golf course.

The porpise, though, that was... something.

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Roots | Shoots