ME WALKING IN NATURE Looking in all directions, no one to be seen: I am alone. Here in the woods, I am a minute speck of the upthrust, the wave of human history. A grain of dust, a drop of spray, a bubble. I am closer to the infinitesimal than to the infinite. The exact par- ticular that is me stands here amongst those not of its kind carrying within it the species. Nations and tribes and solitaries who all knew their something represented here by me. My nature is us, having come off the savannahs and wandered, not a quest but a question: what is over there? This leading not to an answer but to a result, which is me standing here, looking around, probably looking a little daft, if truth be said, to someone witnessing, if a witness were to be found, which is not found, but nonetheless there it is, the person standing by himself who could not be there if others had not moved before, would not be dressed if others had not clothed themselves, would not even have a thought but for the thinking together built all through time, and therefore, truly: he is not alone.