To say you experienced the unusual fog and witnessed the ghostly flock of sparrows
that hung for a moment in your proximity, to wear this on the skin indefinitely, to
wear it as a skin in your many fields, is worth becoming other than yourself. You
are gathering up weathers and rubbing them into your skin. How much of the silk we
wear, the cottons, the linens, how much absorbs imperceptibly? Matter is always grinding
into other matter. You and I have met before, in a meal of lamb and parsley and, before
that, in the sea, where we watched a turtle find its way to a cooler, darker ocean.