There's a story of Captain Cook having arrived at an island, and his arrival was not noticed by the natives on the beach until his men disembarked into smaller boats. Up until that point, the billowing sails of the ship were observed in the familiar as clouds.
A reader reminded me of something I'd written a few years back about Huxley's Doors of Perception and the role that the hands can play in that. I wrote pretty well back then.
https://wisdomofhands.blogspot.com/search?q=doors+of+perception
These days due to our obsequious observance of flat screens, will we see nothing that's not flat? In the meantime, I'm sitting on the porch with Rosie. The woods are alive in quiet sounds. Rosie's nose is lifted to catch scents from which I can only imagine.
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