Alone in the country.
Invariably noting sundry distinct sounds.
Voluminous birds.
Curious critters.
Enigmatic symphony.
Wondrous focus.
When I arrive, my thoughts still rush with the anxious bustle of urban conjecture, odd distractions and flippant ridiculousness madeleine mayhem surreally strewn.
As the weeks pass however the surrounding environment is slowly absorbed, unconsciously restructuring manifest daydreams with new material less temperamental.
Piecemeal immersion gradually concentrating psychological synergies throughout the mind, nature encouraging chill observation with delicate tact and studious ponder.
It's fun to stretch out and listen to the adventurous sounds and resident harmonies, without getting lost in wide-eyed reverie awkwardly concerning uncanny discourse.
It's kind of like Mindfulness or a tranquil zone in which you existentially float, attuning your ear to the swathing sounds until you can tell the difference between a dragonfly and hummingbird (in unseen flight).
But for hours and hours throughout the day, not just for 5 minutes on your coffee break, the extended visceral celestial thought facilitating freeform imagination.
You can wind-up making friends with wolves and starting to think you're playing an active role, to the point where you see a deer at the end of your driveway and think he or she's wondering where you've been.
Extensive studies in the bush can require chillaxed adaptability.
It helps if you never stopped loving animals.
Who may seem somewhat curious about you.
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