It is deep fall. I watch we two-leggeds mimic the geese and ducks, the deer and the bear, and the squirrels. Like the migrating birds, our seasonal resident island friends have packed up their SUV’s and headed south to their other lives. The island is strangely quiet, except for chain saws bringing down standing dead wood and the work trucks on the dirt road trying to get the foundations poured, the driveways repaired, and roofs tightened up before the first serious frost. Like the deer, we are fattening up – at least our pantries – and like the bears, we are taking care of our winter dens. My cupboards are bursting, and I’m wondering if I should make a list, lest I lose track, like so many squirrels. These are relentless instincts in all of us, to make ready for the long, dark winter. It is irresistible, and following its lead gives such satisfaction. I’ve been wondering what that is, that satisfaction: the relief of living out my animal life so much more fully and so easily, with so little mental organizing, just following that deep purpose of securing life and well being. Deep ease in all of this, deep ease. And so much to learn!