The place I want to get back to is where in the pinewoods in the moments between the darkness ---and the first light two deer came walking down the hill and when they saw me --- they said to each other, okay, this one is okay, let's see who she is and why she is sitting ---on the ground, like that, so quiet, as if asleep, or in a dream, but, anyway, harmless; --- and so they came on their slender legs and gazed upon me not unlike the way --- I go out to the dunes and look and look and look into the faces of the flowers; and then one of them leaned forward  --- and nuzzled my hand, and what can my life bring to me that could exceed that brief moment? For twenty years --- I have gone every day to the same woods, not waiting, exactly, just lingering, Such gifts, bestowed, can't be repeated. --- If you want to talk about this come to visit. I live in the house near the corner, which I have named Gratitude.

-Mary Oliver, Thirst, Beacon Press, 2006


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