It was energy for the harvest. Every time I saw a new vein, a new forest, or a new patch of other growth in the wild,
I could feel it surging.
My grip on my axe or pickaxe would tighten, my strength reaching points I would normally not be able to muster. Details about everything would sharpen, particularly regarding where each ore was, where each tree trunk was, or where each other object of harvest was. A precise map would form in my head, detailing all the positions I needed to cover,
without even conscious effort.
Seedlings didn't give me quite the same charge. While I would still gather them, it was at a much more leisurely rate. Probably because
they forced me to wait. Harvest would always come, but there was no immediate satisfaction with seedlings.
With rare ores, or finds of rare plant life, the charge would always be there, pushing me to gather as much as I could
within a short span of time. It happened with rare creatures as well, particularly ones that provided materials I was looking for. Many were quite dangerous however, so I couldn't rush in like I did with ores or plant life. The approach would have to be planned, the tools chosen carefully. Sometimes, even a bit of construction had to be done, to ensure success and safety. Nevertheless, the same energy would be there, though it would be put to a different use. Careful methodical planning rather than a mad dash into a vein or grove.
New locations often provided a similar surge of energy, especially if I knew such locations would provide what I was looking for. Unimportant details would fade into the background, blurred out as more relevant details came into focus. Which way to turn. Who to talk to. Where there might be
the chests of treasure I expected.
With enough energy, I could cover each location within minutes, much less than the hours it took to explore places that did not hold as much promise. The more important, the more significant any find, the more of a charge I would get. My inventory quickly filled if the find was as good as I hoped. And if the find did not turn out to be quite so good, I suppose the resulting disappointment would dissipate much of the energy I received during the initial stage of each find. But
as long as there remained some amount of hope, there would remain some amount of energy. Though in a disappointed state, I wouldn't have been able to muster the same amount of energy even if I wanted to.
Only when there was nothing more to gather, nothing more to explore, would my mind and my body calm again, and I would return to walking leisurely through those places, no longer caring about whatever tool happened to be in my hand. Then it would be off to find
the next trigger for my next fix of excitement.
If I had to return to base because of a full inventory, that was usually calmer, satisfying in its own way but without the same charge. I might take in some sights on the way back, but I would still be on the lookout. You never knew what you might discover even
treading old paths. And if I did find something, the cycle would restart itself.
I would also feel the charge surging if I was in the process of crafting something new from what I had brought back. It was
a different form of discovery and exploration I suppose, figuring out whatever new options became open after each new creation. Then it would be a leisurely stroll back out to explore again, unless the return was forced by a full inventory and an incomplete harvest out in the field. If there was work to do, even if it could have been done slowly, the rush would be there as long as the find was important enough to whatever goals I had at the time. While my goals and direction regularly changed during those years, the cycle was always good at keeping me running.