Someone said where do you live?

I said in a hole.

A hole?

Yeah a hole is my home.

Not only my home, but fredrick’s home.

Fredrick?

Yeah it’s more of a summer home for Fredrick, he has eight legs and is carnivorous.

So this home?

Yes, My home.

Indeed.

Well yes, the home. It shelters me from the elements, keeps my family safe from predators and stores my food.

What does your home do…?….

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This will be a reoccurring post.  I like looking at where my feet walk and then look up to find out what is going on in this micro ecosystem.  What might be coming through here?  Where is the sun at what time of day? How long have you been here? Who may have stepped here before me?

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I am the first to admit I avoid getting wet even when it’s 95 degrees outside.  But this Wainwright tune always encourages me to say fuck it and jump right in.  Some of my best childhood memories are from spending hours upon hours in water. At a certain age it didn’t matter if it was a creek, pond, lake, quarry, river or lake as long as you were with your friends and your skin was wet, that’s all it took to feel the moment and pass the day.  I don’t know what bug crawls up our ass when we age and convinces us to stay dry but I can tell you it makes life less fun. Get in that swim!

Although stumbling across recent coyote kills like this is disturbingly shocking, it reminds me how in nature everything is used. I find it beautiful to think of the pureness of the scene, although a young deer lost its life, the coyotes won the day and provided as a pack.

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