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I have a picture to give you, too. Here is a forties photograph of a woman that i found in last sunday's paper. she is seated on the grass, wearing a suit and a hat, her purse centered in her lap. She is smiling, but her eyes ache, and behind her, i know this, her hands are clenched. She can't relax. She has forgotten the grass. I kept staring at her, thinking, this is me. Checking my purse for keys three times before I leave the house. I too have forgotten the grass. But I used to do one handed cartwheels and then collapse into it for the fine sight of the blades close up. And there was no sense of any kind of time. And I was not holding in my stomach or thinking what does my opinion mean to others. I was not regretting any part of myself. There was only sun-rich color, and smell, and the slight give of the soft earth beneath me. My mind was in my heart, anchored like a bright kite in a safe place.