As I walked under the oak trees, stepping over the dampened dead leaves littering the sidewalk, I realized the idea of ownership doesn't apply to anything in nature. These trees do not own their leaves; they just grow in springtime and fall in autumn. The birds do not own their nests or their offspring. They use or care for things for as long as necessary and then let go and move elsewhere. I've let this idea sink in while scrutinizing my own understanding of ownership. I see how we people like to own things for various reasons: To make use, to get comfort, to signal status, to impress others, to feel better about ourselves, or just for fun; all the while, we dissimulate our reasons in the eyes of others. Almost always, an exchange is involved in owning and most often is time or attention.
The empty town square reverberated when the church bell rang at 5 PM. Standing in the midpoint, I looked all around and saw an empty bench facing the church. I stepped towards it while the bell continued its terrific dongs. It stopped the moment I sat and looked towards the church towers. I could almost picture the sound fading away in the distance as a departing train. It is Sunday, January first, 2023.
A stray dog appeared before me, staring me straight into my eyes. I love how animals don't shy away from making eye contact.
The empty town square reverberated when the church bell rang at 5 PM. Standing in the midpoint, I looked all around and saw an empty bench facing the church. I stepped towards it while the bell continued its terrific dongs. It stopped the moment I sat and looked towards the church towers. I could almost picture the sound fading away in the distance as a departing train. It is Sunday, January first, 2023.
A stray dog appeared before me, staring me straight into my eyes. I love how animals don't shy away from making eye contact.
