For nature, heartless, witless nature,
will neither care nor know
What stranger's feet may find the meadow
And trespass there and go,
Nor ask amid the dews of morning
If they are mine or no.
A.E. Housman, Last Poems
I'm getting that end-of-the-race calm, a sort of Zen fatalism, and it makes me very happy to think that in a few days I will be hiking around
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