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Everything Perfect

January 25, 2010
I am sitting on Crown Ridge looking down a steep slope next to the water pump marking the half way point on our dog walk. Everything exists here, in nature; birth, death, disease, growth, struggle, survival of the fittest. There is an order to things, a hierarchy.

The bays, oaks and redwoods are reaching towards the sun. There are pine cones, needles, rocks and dirt blanketing the earth beneath my feet. Fallen trees. Trash. Ferns. Leaves.

Crackle a leaf, pick up a pebble, put it in your pocket, it doesn’t matter.

The stillness through the trees, the generator pump’s hum, pups panting from the mile long run, the gaping hole in a dying bay tree, the sweet song of a sparrow infiltrating the airwaves, more joining in as they become accustomed to us being here, for the world I wouldn’t change a thing. ♥

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