Suddenly I am walking again amidst stands of cottonwood that parallel the Rio Grande,
thinking about the mad dreamer who, when I left for Santa Fe, gave me a tent, blue,
general, the imaginary animals are not treated in a more fantastic manner or given any special
attributes or qualities that would serve to separate them from living animals, except of course
those features that would serve to identify them as a particular imaginary ‘species’
that had
with no waterproof fly. In the middle of summer, at 12,000 ft. I was caught in a hail
and rainstorm, the tent inside dripping.

Thirty-five years later, on a dry California day,
                                   "the upper sky and distant mountains appear blue."