J:  It's certainly less feelable than something going through your living body?  And it might also be less than almost anything living people experience; I'm not sure.  But it's the main thing we can feel and we definitely can feel it.  Even air, a little bit.  Moreso when it's moving.

"That does sound discomfiting!"

MA:  I'd like to clarify that Jeremy means things in general moving through us is the main thing we can feel, not just rain, and also that he's wrong, for those of us who sometimes touch other ghosts.

"How does ghost contact work?"

D:  About the same as between living people, I reckon.  Sometimes we've concentrated real hard and managed to overlap each other, but it takes maybe half an hour of trying.
MA:  Other people might be better at it than we are, though.

"Cool. Or, could be worse, anyway."

J:  I can reliably put my hand through my stomach if I try but I think I'm more bored than most ghosts.

"I think in your position I would take up amateur naturalism of backyard species but maybe you are also doing that."

J:  Some.  Mostly at the creek; being a ghost is pretty good for watching fish and whatnot.

"Doesn't make the fish take a chill if they go through you?"

J:  Hard to say.  I can't reliably make them scatter, if I try.

"Doesn't bother squirrels either? They don't puff up or whatever?"

J:  Sometimes.  I don't know whether that's a temperature thing or an ancestry one.  But it's birds, too, not just mammals.

"Ancestry?"

J:  Evolutionary distance.

"I should bring a thermometer, that's what I should do..." He writes that down.

J:  It's not as fun as you'd think to be able to pet wild animals, because anything we don't actually touch feels kind of hard.  Pillows only feel squishy if you squish them; otherwise they're just kind of un-dense.  And of course if you actually touch a bird it freaks out.

"I think I skipped the step where I thought it'd be fun to pet wild animals as a ghost. Like, if the fur doesn't bend under your hand that's going to feel like nothing in the best case and a cactus in the worst."

J:  It does feel better than either nothing or a cactus, at least.  Or, a cactus to somebody alive.  I haven't felt a cactus since I died.

Shrug. "I lived in Arizona most of my life. Sometimes you encounter a cactus. I've got scars."

J:  Where?

"...is that important for some reason?"

J:  No.

"Anyway. If there's nothing else I should go rejoin Charlie."

J:  All right.
MA:  Nice meeting you!
D:  See you around.  Though not vice versa.