There are white-tailed little bunnies running about. Cottontails. It seems I have forgotten those rabbits, in the same way that I forgot the stars. They are being born everywhere~ it is very early spring. Spring in very early February, which reminds me that I am in Texas, where it is possible to have 72 degree Fahrenheit weather on February 4~ daffodils and narcissus springing up out of the ground, sap starting to rise, and the perky nose of hope smelling the breeze while you stand there astounded. Long horn steer? I was driving to the library, winding around on Route 314 to the unknown part of somewhere, and there they were, eating grass. I think they were eating grass. I have to ask the locals, to be sure that is correct, or even possible. These same locals tell me that I should not stand at the fence and talk to the bulls while they munch presumably grass. It is apparently not good to rile up the bulls, Ferol. But I was only talking to them. Bulls, for pete's sake, have a sense of these things. I know they do. The grass tells me this. Should I trust the locals, or trust the bull? You tell me. I know what I think.
About what? About that. The Amazing Experience of Life. Step up and breathe. The glory of standing there will knock you out into the stars. Past the daffodils and spring bunnies. You won't believe it. It was there all the time.
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