My darling took me hunting today. About this time every year we both begin to yearn a meat aside from the winter staples like pike, moose, and beaver. So alas, we went off in a venture for swans and ducks. Like I have said before, I have a heart too weak to witness an animal fall out of the sky. The sound of the gunshort terrifies be each time. I can't look at the lifeless beings until I am sure their soul has passed. But, I do it all. I enjoy the act of taking the karma of my food into my own hands. Of ensuring that the things I eat were taken in both a spiritually and ethically correct way. I appreciate sitting outside for hours in solitude and silence. I often take a book or a sketchpad. But most of the time I find myself simply lost in what's around me. Today we had many visitors... which means many gunshots. Two snow geese and one yellow foot fell. I didn't watch. It's such a blessing nevertheless. After a winter absent of the taste of waterfowl, I felt overwhelmed with joy when my next dinner fell from the sky.
