Collecting bottles, tossing leftovers, taking out the garbage
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I was surprised to find myself wanting to cry at the simple beauty of Edward Abbey’s message in “The First Morning” [Dog-Eared Page, February 2019].
He expresses a desire to become a part of the natural world, where a person can sometimes feel like an intruder. Wanting to know the language of crows or to “look at and into a juniper tree, a piece of quartz, a vulture” speaks to a need I’ve also had for a deeper connection to the earth. As I look out at my tiny patch of land, with a warm cat on my lap, I, too, am thankful for the sunrise.