14C when I got up but now sun is on the thermometer.

Went to a funeral service for one of the ladies from the bowling club yesterday. This is the second in the last month, but yesterday for some reason twitched my strings, some of the words,perhaps, but as much it was like something welled up and bubbled out. Then coincidentally Alan's friend just wrote and talked about emotions coming in waves lately.
That email reminded me that when we feel alone in our grief -we're not! There are others out there that are experiencing similar emotions, doesn't change anything or make it easier, for me it just dulls some of my selfishness.

He was able to snare two more in the same manner before the rest got nervous and moved up higher beyond the reach of his pole.

  One of his catch he pulled apart and devoured the heart and liver.  He then crammed all three birds into the pack deciding that he would light a fire at midday and cook them all at that time.  He set off once more taking his snare pole with him.

  The trail he had been following gradually disappeared and although there were still many more, they now were leading away from the river and going in a more northerly direction.  At one point thinking that perhaps that the trails may again swing to the east, he followed one and in a short distance found himself on the edge of a swampy area, a large mud wallow was just a few feet in front of him.

  He turned and headed back towards the river, concluding that he would ignore the trails unless he found one that worked in his favor.   He was almost back to the river when he heard a sound, a different sound; it was an airplane motor!  He broke into a run, dodging trees and bushes jumping across logs and roots; the plane was low coming towards him; he ran faster, tripped and fell sprawling against a tree, knocking the wind out of himself!

The plane passed almost directly overhead and continued on flying towards the north.

  He lay there, winded, his head starting to throb, despair and anger rose up and he yelled aloud, cursing the plane, cursing himself, cursing, cursing.  He rolled over onto his side and half curled, he lay there looking at the trees in front but seeing nothing.  Unbidden the white moose appeared in his mind, it looked at him sadly and shook its head, a word echoed through his head ‘pitiful, pitiful’.

  Nat sobbed in despair and yelled aloud, “Go away, leave me alone!  Why are you here? I don’t need you!”

  The moose bobbed its head, whispered in his head, “You have that right, you don’t need me.  You only need yourself and what is there inside.”   And he was gone.

  Nat lay there, then dragged himself to a sitting position and stared again without seeing at the ground between his legs.  Of its own accord his mind wandered back over the past days, the errors he had made, the things he had done right.

  Finally, rising to his feet and looking about he called out “Okay Whitey, I guess laying there blubbering was kind of a pitiful sight, I’ve come this far, no more feeling sorry for myself, I will probably have some more setbacks but I’m goddam well going to make it!” He paused then added, “Even if I kill myself doing it.”

  He picked up his pole snare from where it had landed when he fell, readjusted his pack and headed on towards the river.