The Old River

When you walk to the river, you see the ground beneath you teeming with life. The air you breathe is free to you, and you may gulp it in at your leisure.

And the crows up in the clouds, a hundred at the least, circle around you cawing either their indignation or admiration. Perhaps their acceptance, because they recognize that you are a creature of nature also….

And not it’s master.

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