Frustration

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Aki and I are frustrated. The little dog sulks in her house, still wearing the red sweater that celebrates International Woman’s Day. Lack of activity is not the problem. The frustration rose after a good walk around Auk Lake, which included a stretch on the snow-covered lake, itself. Aki played with a friendly, if rambunctious sled dog. I talked with two British photographers who had just finished filming a red squirrel. I could hardly hear them over the noise of cars driving fifty miles an hour a few feet away. The Brits were satisfied, even thrilled at their encounter with the red squirrel. This made me question whether I’ve been jaded by the rain forest’s beauty. The visitors could have been filming a fishing eagle or otter. They could have found red squirrel subjects deep in a quiet, coastal forest.

3

After the hike I tried to help my hiking partner’s configure his computer to satisfy a new Internet provider. For four hours Aki watched me being placed on hold and shifted from one person to another. Each person needed a magic word to solve the problem. I was fresh out of magic. All the fruit of the morning walk seemed lost, gone up in the smoke of my frustration. My failure to help connect a friend to the World Wide Web cut me off, for an afternoon, from my calm connection.

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