JULY 12, 1554
I think hawking is one of the things that Francis and I do so well together. Our instincts combined with those of the birds seem to fit perfectly when we are in the field. We speak very little to one another but silently give the calls to the birds and perform our hand signals. This afternoon the two of us went out with only Robin McClean as our guard. And I thought as I took a rest on the ridge of a hill that there was something of perfect harmony amongst the three of us and the birds we had brought to fly. If only all of life could be kept in the company of such good souls...
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