In the wake of yesterday’s post about the power of meditation, this recent TED Talk seemed a perfect way to end the week.
Published on Jul 16, 2013
You don’t need to plan an exotic trip to find creative inspiration. Just look up, says Gavin Pretor-Pinney, founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society. As he shares charming photos of nature’s finest aerial architecture, Pretor-Pinney calls for us all to take a step off the digital treadmill, lie back and admire the beauty in the sky above.
Want to learn a little more about the different types of cloud? Then go here. Want to learn more about the Cloud Appreciation Society? More details here.
And who knows, you may even see your dog in those clouds!
The healing power of meditation and self-reflection.
Yesterday, I wrote about two seemingly disconnected events that appeared to resonate together. One of those was a comment left by reader Patrice Ayme.
But that harmony didn’t stop with those two events. Here’s how it continued to flow.
Patrice has a recently published post called Consciousness I. To be honest, some of the concepts have been a bit of a struggle for me to understand. However, at one point in that essay, Patrice wrote:
Meditation is a most precious, most human state of consciousness. Whereas sentience is shared with many animals on this planet, obviously, not so with the capacity for meditation. meditation allows to shut down most (over-) used neuronal circuitry, and engage more strategically important parts of the brain.
Action without meditation is as slavedom without wisdom.
That really struck a chord with me because, once again, the power of meditation has been brought into focus. Regular readers of Learning from Dogs may recall that just six days ago, I wrote a piece called Maybe home is found in our quietness. There were three references to meditation in that post that I will take the liberty of repeating today.
The first was:
A few weeks ago when meeting our local doctor for the first time since we moved to Oregon, I had grumbled about bouts of terrible short-term memory recall and more or less had shrugged my shoulders in resignation that there was nothing one could do: it was just part of getting older, I guessed!
“On the contrary”, responded Dr. Hurd, continuing, “There’s growing evidence that our information-crowded lives: cell phones; email; constant TV; constant news, is pumping too much for our brains to manage.”
Dr. Hurd continued, “Think about it! Our brains have to process every single sensory stimulus. The research is suggesting that our brains are being over-loaded and then the brain just dumps the excess data. If that is the case, and the evidence is pointing in that direction, then try thirty minutes of meditation each day; give your brain a chance to rest.”
Then later on in that post came:
The second was a recent science programme on the BBC under the Horizon series. The programme was called,The Truth About Personality.
…….
Within the programme came the astounding fact that even ten minutes a day meditation can help the brain achieve a more balanced personality (balance in terms of not being overly negative in one’s thoughts).
The last one was in a short talk by writer Pico Iyer meditating on the meaning of home, the joy of traveling and the serenity of standing still.
Now come forward just three days to last Tuesday evening. Jean and I sat down and more or less randomly wondered if there was something of interest to watch on the website Top Documentary Films. Just by chance, we came across a film by filmmaker Isabelle Raynauld with the title of Mystical Brain.
Here’s a tiny snippet from the film:
Filmmaker Isabelle Raynauld offers up scientific research that suggests that mystical ecstasy is a transformative experience.
It could contribute to people’s psychic and physical health, treat depression and speed up the healing process when combined with conventional medicine.
This documentary reveals the exploratory work of a team from the University of Montreal who seek to understand the states of grace experienced by mystics and those who meditate. In French with English subtitles.
However, as interesting as this snippet is, the power of the film is in the area of spirituality and the way that meditation can open up the brain to an incredible range of mystical experiences, as well as the impressive health benefits of slowing the mind. Maybe, just maybe, the power of religious and spiritual experience is being understood, with some very surprising results.
To underscore why the film should be watched, there is much about the nature of the theta rhythms in the brain. The relevance of these? Simply that when the brain is generating these regular slow oscillations the human condition is one of great peace.
Dhalia showing us humans how easy it is to meditate!
Call it prayer, meditation, relaxation, building internal energy or life force, compassion, love, patience, generosity or forgiveness; what does it matter. It’s what it is doing to you that matters!
So when you bury your face in the warm fur of your beautiful dog and both you and your dog appear to be transported to some beautiful, magical place you have entered that indestructible sense of well-being.
Actually, let me make one small correction. Both you and your dog have entered that indestructible sense of well-being.
Only one way to finish today’s post: “I think, therefore I am!” René Descartes.
Our truths, our home, our serenity; all flow from stillness.
Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation.
As is often the way, a number of disparate items came together for today’s post in a way of lovely connectivity.
A few weeks ago when meeting our local doctor for the first time since we moved to Oregon, I had grumbled about bouts of terrible short-term memory recall and more or less had shrugged my shoulders in resignation that there was nothing one could do: it was just part of getting older, I guessed!
“On the contrary”, responded Dr. Hurd, continuing, “There’s growing evidence that our information-crowded lives: cell phones; email; constant TV; constant news, is pumping too much for our brains to manage.”
Dr. Hurd continued, “Think about it! Our brains have to process every single sensory stimulus. The research is suggesting that our brains are being over-loaded and then the brain just dumps the excess data. If that is the case, and the evidence is pointing in that direction, then try thirty minutes of meditation each day; give your brain a chance to rest.”
So that was the first revelation.
The second was a recent science programme on the BBC under the Horizon series. The programme was called, The Truth About Personality.
Michael Mosley’s brain being measured.
Michael Mosley explores the latest science about how our personalities are created – and whether they can be changed.
Despite appearances, Mosley is a pessimist who constantly frets about the future. He wants to worry less and become more of an optimist.
He tries out two techniques to change this aspect of his personality – with surprising results.
And he travels to the frontiers of genetics and neuroscience to find out about the forces that shape all our personalities.
Within the programme came the astounding fact that even ten minutes a day meditation can help the brain achieve a more balanced personality (balance in terms of not being overly negative in one’s thoughts).
The third revelation came from Jean and me watching a TED Talk last night. Just 14 minutes long, please watch it – you will be transformed!
Published on Jul 17, 2013
More and more people worldwide are living in countries not considered their own. Writer Pico Iyer — who himself has three or four “origins” — meditates on the meaning of home, the joy of traveling and the serenity of standing still.
Then, just three days ago, John Hurlburt, a long-time supporter and regular contributor to Learning from Dogs, emailed me his reflection on meditation. John quickly gave permission for it to be published here.
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The stillness of evening.
Evening Meditation
Our world is increasingly spiritually, morally, mentally, physically and economically bankrupt. Many people would like to change the world one way or another. Most don’t really know why. Some folks simply don’t care. The idea is to leave life a bit better than we found it when we were born.
The fact is we’re all intrinsically sacred in a universe we didn’t create. We tend to prioritize illusion and delusion above reality. Playing God is a precursor of evil. A supreme faith in Money is self contradictory and ultimately fatal. Arrogance compounds the problem.
We connect in unified awareness through serene meditation. We experience harmony within an emerging celestial symphony. Answers flow from the inside out as we surrender to the eternal energy flow.
Be still and know…
an old lamplighter
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Finally, after having a real struggle to find the place, both psychologically and physically, where I could start my own relationship with meditation, on Wednesday afternoon, when walking the quarter-mile up to our mail-box, it struck me as obvious.
Embraced by nature.
This quiet place on our creek where the water trickles down from an old flood irrigation dam. Somewhere to sit under the shade of a tree, somewhere to be still, somewhere as perfect a home as anyone could ever find.
Meditation is the dissolution of thoughts in Eternal awareness or Pure consciousness without objectification, knowing without thinking, merging finitude in infinity.
A beautifully written, soul-stirring account of strife, darkness, hope and, above all, love shared between dog and human.
Gracious, I don’t know where to start! Guess at the beginning.
Which was that a little over a month ago, I received this email:
Dear Paul:
I hope this note finds you well. We were in touch several years about Racing in the Rain, and I wanted to get in touch about another dog-related novel that may be of interest to you and your readers.
I am working with Forge Books to set up a blog tour for Andrea Thalasinos, whose novel Traveling Light hits bookshelves and e-readers on July 16th. Traveling Light is an inspiring story about fate, family, and healing; it also explores the special bond that exists between humans and canines.
Now I well remembered the book Racing in the Rain, writing about it in May 2011 and then a guest post from the author, Garth Stein, in September under the title of A game called Fetch.
Wiley included in his email a “flavour” of Andrea Thalasinos’ novel, as in:
Paula Makaikis is ashamed of her marriage. Driven out of their bedroom by Roger’s compulsive hoarding, she has spent the past ten years sleeping downstairs on her husband’s ratty couch. Distant and uninspired, Paula is more concerned with the robins landing on her office window ledge than her hard-earned position at the university. Until a phone call changes everything.
A homeless Greek man is dying in a Queens hospital and Paula is asked to come and translate. The old man tells her of his beloved dog, Fotis, who bit a police officer when they were separated. Paula has never considered adopting a dog, but she promises the man that she will rescue Fotis and find him a good home. But when Fotis enters her life she finds a companion she can’t live without. Suddenly Paula has a dog, a brand-new Ford Escape, an eight-week leave of absence, and a plan.
So Fotis and Paula begin the longest drive of their lives. In northern Minnesota, something compels her to answer a help-wanted ad for a wildlife rehabilitation center. Soon Paula is holding an eagle in her hands, and the experience leaves her changed forever.
Traveling Light explores what is possible when we cut the ties that hold us down and the heart is free to soar.
Of course, I wanted to read and review Andrea’s book. Wiley and I agreed that a review published on the 18th July, i.e. today, would be perfect. However, for reasons not entirely clear, the review copy of the book didn’t arrive until July 10th; just 8 days ago. That made it too tight for me to read in that time, so I gave the book to Jean for her to read first.
If I tell you that Jean devoured the book and had it finished in three days, you won’t get a better idea than that of how moving and captivating she found it. At the time of writing this post (9am yesterday) I was already up to page 160. So the review that follows a little later in today’s post is the combined feelings of Jean and me.
One of the other things that Wiley offered was for Andrea to write a guest post for Learning from Dogs. That now follows! I checked with Wiley: This is a true account from Andrea. (Trust me, you will be entranced!)
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Andrea and Panda.
We’d come up to the edge of a wooden bridge that had almost as much space between the boards as the width of the boards themselves. Snow ordinarily covered the iffy-looking surfaces of such bridges, but the strength March’s early sun had melted clear down to the wood, leaving a full view of the snowy rocks in the creek bed below.
At the time, I didn’t know what my lead dog, Gorky, a red Siberian yearling (tiny in stature by Siberian standards) would do. From a puppy, she’d had more confidence in her furry little toe than I had in my whole body.
The dog positioned the team at the edge of the bridge and paused. She looked around, sniffing the wind, looking to the other side and then down through the slats into the creek bed below. I could tell she was thinking, calculating risks, odds and whether or not she had the moxie to cross. The other six dogs (including her father), were hooked up to the gangline behind her and by the set of their shoulders, their hedging and shirking back in their harnesses I could tell they were nervous.
It was a narrow trail, just wide enough for one dog team. Two more experienced teams were closing in from behind and I wondered what we would do. Rock walls butted up to either side of the trail, making it impossible to either turn around or move off the trail to let the others pass. I’d considered leading my dog team down into the gully, but the drop-off looked steep and as a rookie musher, I didn’t trust my skills to do so safely.
“Fifty bucks says she won’t take it,” the approaching musher called out from behind.
Thinking I’d be out the fifty before I could say boo, Gorky stepped up to the edge. Her body language changed. She’d committed to taking the bridge. As the red dog leaned into her harness, she gave the forward cue. The others fell in line, following her calm, forward gait with no signs of wavering.
After her first step I noticed that not once did Gorky look down, but rather kept her eye on the other side of the bridge as if she were already there.
Whenever I have to make difficult decisions, I think back to this moment. Sometimes I don’t have enough information or am waiting for some cosmic gut-affirmation that never seems to arrive when I need it. But one thing is clear. Like Gorky, once I set my mind on a course of action, I think of her and act.
Who knows if she was scared or not—she never said. The red dog lived to be 15 ½ and taught me more about not second-guessing than any person, place or thing I’ve come across since. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared, it just means you do it anyway.
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Traveling Light, a novel by Andrea Thalasinos
The opening of the book, In The Beginning, more of a prologue than anything else, firmly sets the context. For we read that the heroine of the story, Paula Makaikis, is tipped out of what is a highly unsatisfactory marriage into “the longest drive of her life” by a phone call from Celeste, Paula’s best friend.
The drive comes out of the tragic death of an old Greek man who pleads, in his last few breaths, that Paula takes his dog, Fotis, before the pound puts the dog to sleep.
If I tell you that by page 71, I had been brought to tears on two occasions then you will understand the depth of feeling that Andrea conveys: about life; about love; and the precious nature of a dog called Fotis .
This book, even as a work of fiction, seems to reach out to the reader, well to this reader anyway, with many messages of what life is all about. Take this for example, from page 104:
Paula few out of the Holland Tunnel into the early colors of the morning. Gas pedal depressed, windows open, her hair blowing, the faster she accelerated the better she felt. Getting up to eighty, then ninety, she thought maybe the wind would whisk her thoughts away.
Jersey was a blur except for periodic traffic congestion; Pennsylvania went on like a past life. The faster she drove, the clearer the sense that there was somewhere she needed to be. It wasn’t California or New York. It wasn’t a place. The map was nothing but lines, numbers, destinations. Wherever she was meant to be, she’d know it when she got there.
How many of us have shaken off our troubles as a dog shakes off water from its coat and ended up coming to a place and knowing that we were at the place we were meant to be!
In many ways, the book is a lovely fairy-tale, right up to the perfect ending. But in so many other ways the book is a reminder that we only have one life. Easy to say but less easy to embrace fully with heart and head. In fact, the book reinforces something that I wrote as a private letter to a family member in consequence of my sister’s recent death. I will share just a portion of that letter because I sense Andrea Thalasinos would love to see how her book reaches out to her readers.
Be clear about the purpose of life: your life. Do not put off what brings meaning, truth and happiness. Not even for a day. Live your beautiful life now; live it this day.
Thus for both Jean and me, this was the most beautiful of books and both of us have no hesitation in strongly recommending it.
Big thanks to Wiley Saichek for giving Jean and me the opportunity to read Traveling Light.
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Now here’s an offer.
Wiley has offered a free copy of Andrea’s book as a ‘give-away’ from Learning from Dogs. Here’s the plan.
Would you like to write a story about any aspect of the relationship that dogs can have with humans?
Any length, truth or fiction; it doesn’t matter. Email your story to me (learningfromdogs (at) gmail (dot) com) to be received by the end of Wednesday, 31st July 2013, Pacific Daylight Time.
Then during the early part of August, I will publish every one received with some mechanism for readers to ‘score’ the stories and the winning author will be sent a free copy of the book.
Four years ago this day, the first post was published on Learning from Dogs. Here it is again:
Parenting lessons from Dogs!
Much too late to make me realise the inadequacies of my own parenting skills, I learnt an important lesson when training my GSD (who is called Pharaoh, by the way). That is that putting more emphasis into praise and reward for getting it right ‘trains’ the dog much quicker than telling it off. The classic example is scolding a dog for running off when it should be lots of hugs and praise for returning home. The scolding simply teaches the dog that returning home isn’t pleasant whereas praise reinforces that home is the place to be. Like so many things in life, very obvious once understood!
Absolutely certain that it works with youngsters just the same way.
Despite being a very dominant dog, Pharaoh showed his teaching ability when working with other dogs. In the UK there is an amazing woman, Angela Stockdale, who has proved that dogs (and horses) learn most effectively when being taught by other dogs (and horses). Pharaoh was revealed to be a Beta Dog, (i.e. second in status below the Alpha Dog) and, therefore, was able to use his natural pack instinct to teach puppy dogs their social skills and to break up squabbles within a pack.
When you think about it, don’t kids learn much more (often to our chagrin!) from other kids than they do from their parents. Still focusing on giving more praise than punishment seems like a much more effective strategy.
As was read somewhere, Catch them in the act of doing Right!
By Paul Handover.
As it happens, it feels a little like ‘what goes around, comes around’. Why do I say that?
Because just last Saturday, I sent off a selection of pictures and videos to Angela Stockdale. Stay with me for a while as to the reason why.
Angela trades under the name of The Dog Partnership and, frankly, what she doesn’t know about the behaviour of dogs isn’t worth bothering about!
Just take a peek at the page on her website under the heading of Teaching Dogs. Here’s a little of what Angela writes:
I consider myself so lucky for dogs alone to have been my teachers. I learnt from watching how my own dogs responded to another dog’s body language and vice versa their language. Watching, learning and working with Teaching Dogs was the only way I knew.
I was and always will be in awe of a Teaching Dog’s dogs ability to consciously adapt their body language in accordance to how the other dog was feeling. The result being, they could relax nervous dogs but at the same time maintain control of a problem situation. Remember, dogs talk dog far better than we do.
It came as quite a shock to me when I learnt about other approaches. It seemed foreign for people to have so much input in resolving what were described as ‘ behavioural’ issues. For me, working with these dogs was far more than resolving a behavioural issue. It was about improving the quality of lives of dogs who were not coping with everyday life. If they found dogs or people worrying, sometimes this was shown in displays of aggression. It is important to understand, these dogs were not aggressive, they simply displayed aggressive behaviour.
Now, I would like to introduce you to the world of Teaching Dogs and how these special dogs change the lives of less fortunate dogs, who never had the opportunity to really understand how to communicate with their own species.
Back to why those photographs and videos had been sent to Angela. A couple of weeks ago, we enjoyed an evening meal with friends of friends, so to speak. This other couple owned a beautiful-looking male German Shepherd dog: Duke. Duke was 4-years-old. Our hostess remarked that he was very boisterous and had nipped a couple of strangers who had called at the house. She added that he seemed difficult to control. Duke had been there for about a month and he was a rescue so they had little or no knowledge of past behaviour.
Well, I’m no expect with dogs, that’s Jean’s domain. But there was something about Duke that captivated me. Something in the way he looked at me, his eyes linking so directly with mine, allowing me to see a dog that offered an honest openness.
More or less on impulse I stood up, held my right arm up at 45 degrees, looked Duke in the face and said, “Duke! Sit!”
Duke held my gaze and sat back on his haunches.
I moved my arm in a complete circle, around to the right, and said, “Duke! Lie down!” Duke lay down.
H’mm, I thought. Fascinating. This dog has been professionally trained at some point in the past, using the same ‘command’ system of voice and arm signalling as I had learnt with Pharaoh way back in 2003/2004.
The food was now on the table. I grabbed a small piece of meat off my plate and returned to Duke who had, of course, resumed his pottering around the room. “Duke! Here boy!” Duke came over to me. “Duke! Lie down!” Duke did so. I placed the piece of meat on the wooden floor about three feet in front of him. Duke’s eyes were riveted on the meat. “Duke!” Duke’s eyes reluctantly engaged with mine. “Duke! Stay!” I repeated the Stay command a couple more times as I backed away about 6 or 8 feet.
“Go on, Boy. Take the meat!” Duke gleefully grabbed the piece of meat. Gracious, I thought, this dog is magnificent. I wonder ……..
I took another piece of meat, “Duke! Sit!” “Duke! Stay!” I then backed off that 8 feet again, got down on my knees and placed the piece of meat just between my lips. I knew this was potential madness with a dog I had only met some 30 minutes previously, but there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind. I voiced in my throat for Duke to fetch the meat. Duke came straight over and confidently and carefully removed the meat from my lips.
What a truly fabulous dog! It was a wonderful evening and once home both Jean and I were eulogising about Duke.
Then two days later, our dinner hostess rang me. “You know, I have decided we can no longer keep Duke. He is too strong a dog, I can’t control him. Is there any chance of you finding a new home for Duke?”
Without question, Jean and I would have offered Duke a new home; in a heartbeat. The only thing stopping that was me wondering if this strong-willed, male German Shepherd might be a Beta dog, as Pharaoh was. Or just might be too dominant a male dog to fit in comfortably with our dogs, especially Pharaoh who was at the stage of life where the last thing that should happen is for his happiness and contentment to be disturbed.
I hadn’t a clue as to how to answer that question. But I knew someone who would know: Angela Stockdale.
I rang her, caught up on old times and then explained the background to Duke’s situation. Angela said to repeat the exercise that I had witnessed when I took Pharaoh to her all those years ago, when I wondered if Pharaoh was an aggressive dog. My uncertainty with regard to Pharaoh followed a number of times when walking him in a public area with other dogs and he had been very threatening, both in voice and posture, towards some of those other dogs.
This is what Angela arranged. I took Pharaoh up to her place at Wheddon Cross, near Minehead in Somerset. When we arrived, Angela was standing just by a gate into a fenced paddock, maybe a half-acre in size. In the far corner were two dogs.
Angela asked me to bring Pharaoh to the gate and let him off the leash. It was clear that Pharaoh was going to be let into the paddock. I cautioned that Pharaoh could be quite a handful with other dogs and, perhaps, it would be better that I walked him into the area still on his lead. Angela said that wouldn’t be necessary. So as she held the gate open sufficient for Pharaoh to enter the paddock, I slipped the lead off him and backed away, as requested.
Pharaoh had hardly taken 2 or 3 paces when Angela called out, “Paul, there’s nothing wrong with him!”
I was astounded and stammered, “But, er, er, how can you tell so quickly?” “Because my two dogs haven’t taken any notice!”, came the reply.
Later Angela explained that in the paddock were her female Alpha dog and her male Beta dog. Ergo, the two top dogs in terms of status so far as dogs see other dogs.
In fact, Pharaoh was utterly subservient to these dogs, in a way that I had never witnessed before. Later on, as Pharaoh relaxed and started playing, Angela said that she thought that Pharaoh was a Beta dog. Mixing some of her other dogs into the group was later able to confirm that.
So back now to present times and Duke.
Thus last Saturday, as Angela recommended, we selected two of our dogs, Cleo our female German Shepherd and the most socialable of dogs, and Casey, a strong but not aggressive male (he had some PitBull in him).
Duke arrived and was allowed freely to nose around the large grassed area some way from the fenced-off horse paddock that we were using for the ‘introduction’.
Duke pottered around and then caught sight of Cleo and Casey in the paddock.
First sighting of Cleo and Casey.
Then the meetings began!
Hello! My name is Duke. Do I smell OK? Mr. Casey?
And play didn’t seem to be too far off the agenda!
You lead, Cleo, I’ll chase!
So all the photographs and videos have been sent to Angela, and we will see what the conclusion is!
As Angela put it, “Remember, dogs talk dog far better than we do.”
A friend of Jean and me and recent follower of Learning from Dogs, Ira W., sent me an email that included a link to Theo Jansen’s Strandbeest website. To say that I was astonished at what I read would be a giant understatement. Wikipedia offers this opening description:
Theo Jansen (born 1948) is a Dutch artist. In 1990, he began what he is known for today: building large mechanisms out of PVC that are able to move on their own, known as Strandbeest. His animated works are a fusion of art and engineering; in a car company (BMW) television commercial Jansen says: “The walls between art and engineering exist only in our minds.” He strives to equip his creations with their own artificial intelligence so they can avoid obstacles by changing course when one is detected, such as the sea itself.
How is that realised? Well take a look at this:
The Strandbeest website has this information about what the ‘beast’ is about.
Self-propelling beach animals like Animaris Percipiere have a stomach . This consists of recycled plastic bottles containing air that can be pumped up to a high pressure by the wind. This is done using a variety of bicycle pump, needless to say of plastic tubing. Several of these little pumps are driven by wings up at the front of the animal that flap in the breeze. It takes a few hours, but then the bottles are full. They contain a supply of potential wind. Take off the cap and the wind will emerge from the bottle at high speed. The trick is to get that untamed wind under control and use it to move the animal. For this, muscles are required. Beach animals have pushing muscles which get longer when told to do so. These consist of a tube containing another that is able to move in and out. There is a rubber ring on the end of the inner tube so that this acts as a piston. When the air runs from the bottles through a small pipe in the tube it pushes the piston outwards and the muscle lengthens. The beach animal’s muscle can best be likened to a bone that gets longer. Muscles can open taps to activate other muscles that open other taps, and so on. This creates control centres that can be compared to brains.
Plus there is no shortage of videos to find on the web. I chose this one for you. (But, please do go to Jansen’s home page as well and watch the video.)
So the creativity of man knows no bounds! Which neatly brings me to the creativity of the poet John Masefield. Here is that famous poem.
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking,
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Learning from Dogs 