The Thunder-Spirit Night time--the orange Clouds withhold oncoming rain; Afar the thunder Lingers to oblivion: Restless are the ways That fulfill unspoken dreams Their lives amongst us, As time that summons passing As a startled bird To wake us in the moonlight Of a winter sleep. Douglas Thornton
November 15th, 2012
Hiked on the 10th; mushroom hunting and the first cepe de Bordeaux I've ever found. Those places where the mushroom lives and sprouts up excite me; for they are on the most unnoticeable part of ground and give importance to a spot that we would have briefly looked over in any other circumstance. It is perhaps a meditation on nature; the robin, the squirrel, and even the deer are apt to cross our path, and still other birds, or the tracks of unknown animals, and though the mushroom still sits in the back of our mind, we anticipate an encounter with something far less known, and going into the underbrush, or pushing aside dead leaves, enlightens a conscious courage that is almost as ancient as it is foreign to our daily lives. He certainly who finds what he's looking for has always been searching for something else.
Douglas Thornton
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