The condition of being all but dead is a great thing: As the garden path opens on the field Whoever said because there’s no one out there, there is reason to despair? The thunderhead you see sailing over the field, purple, redoubling, is your own anxiety. Buy fish for Sunday dinner as if you were a child: be certain your money is in your pocket. You may try to get lost for fun. Listen, you can hear the frost stealing off the hill.