The Gaze Of The Wolf

You Can't Learn Anything From Saguaro Cactus, From Ocotillo. They Are Just Passing Through; Their Roots, Their Much Heralded Dormancy In The Dry Season, These Are Only Illusions Of Permanence. They Know Even Less Than You Do.

For So Many Centuries, The Exchange Of Gifts Has Held Us Together. It Has Made It Possible To Bridge The Abyss Where Language Struggles.

Remember On This One Thing, Said Badger. The Stories People Tell Have A Way Of Taking Care Of Them. If Stories Come To You, Care For Them. And Learn To Give Them Away Where They Are Needed. Sometimes A Person Needs A Story More Than Food To Stay Alive. That Is Why We Put These Stories In Each Other's Memories. This Is How People Care For Themselves.

You Continue To Live Them Out, Making Your Life A Worthy Expression Of Leaning Into The Light.

When We Enter The Landscape To Learn Something, We Are Obligated, I Think, To Pay Attention Rather Than Constantly To Pose Questions. To Approach The Land As We Would A Person, By Opening An Intelligent Conversation. And To Stay In One Place, To Make Of That One, Long Observation A Fully Dilated Experience. We Will Always Be Rewarded If We Give The Land Credit For More Than We Imagine, And If We Imagine It As Being More Complex Even Than Language. In These Ways We Begin, I Think, To Find A Home, To Sense How To Fit A Place.