Resisting Anthropomorphism, Part 735

You walk across the field. The sheep and the lambs look up, startle, skitter away from the path. Then they pause in the golden evening sunlight, feet planted in the emerald-green-after-the-rain grass.

You look at them, and they look at you. You see the cheeky-looking ones, the lively ones, the nervous ones hiding behind their mothers, and the little pale one, shivering in the breeze and looking vulnerable.

You look into their eyes and you have to remind yourself that all of this meaning is mere projection.