Would you like some peanuts?" I look up into the flight attendant's unruffled gray eyes.
As winter's approaching, I take the bag and salt it away.

Reeking of tobacco, the bear is the keeper of all gates: those between life and death, this world and others, flesh and spirit, man and animal form, inside and outside, even the phases of man's individual life. He is mediator between man and woman, the natural and the sacred. The tree, that field, that clump of wildflowers, this street corner, that smell, the taste of this water. The more animal our noses, the more the world presents itself to the senses as animal--and like tribal peoples, we take note of the specific values and powers of each event, each thing. All guides and travelers to the other world in human form: shamans, Orpheus, Jesus, were represented by the man sitting across the aisle. Bright red hair, plaid pants, maroon blazer, he tosses peanuts between big yellow teeth. Licks his fingers and digs for a place to ditch the