The landscape has...and always is its legs and not-legs. Legs is legs: Movement into another rank and out the back door quickly. Not-legs is monumental. The lopsided circle in need of a third variable. Among the lights in the blue of variables. Not is not never. Not is all of the other things. Observation, minutiae, the aroma of the bees and queen anne's lace and the body knowing. Legs wrench you out of it. Not-legs is what you crave.
A soft finding. Yourself is all around you and you collect it. You are unaccustomed to concentration and doubtful of doubt. Unconvinced, you have not a thing to do but search and you are awkward with it and choose unwisely day after month. This is not congenial work. Lonely because you have chosen lonesome.