October 1984BACK.
It is cold. I am chilled to the bone. My right thigh is stiff. The sky above is blueblack. On the horizon is Draco, the dragon, with its tail by the pointers of the Big Dipper. Toward me is Polaris and the W of Cassiopeia, and there is Pegasus, the winged horse created from the blood of the Gorgon, Medusa; Pegasus who transported Bellerophon into battle against the monster Chimera. To the east Leo is barely visible. The sky there brings first light.
Slowly I limp from the sugarbush down through the high meadow to the edge of the pond. I do not have the sustenance for winter nights in these hills the way I once had when I brought Linda to World’s End ... eleven hundred million eons ago. I am moving, going back to the barn. There is so much more to tell.
We entered a tim
