Two young ones and an empty space from last year's wood pile. Soon to be filled with next season's wood pile. We need to get to that.
And a feeling of going without knowing where. But with a sense of why. Which is quite automated in me.
Trust in what?
Do deer trust they will find food? Grow up strong? Find a mate? Live in a beautiful place? Realize their potential? Or do they just keep going because it is all they can do.
Sorry. I do this periodically. I mean no harm. It is a kind of exercise. The man here is much more skilled at it than me. Extracting the essence of a situation without the frills of romantic expectation. And handling it without a nod.