A rainy morning, the hills barely holding onto themselves. On a ridge looking down to
the valley's cultured land, whiffs of salty air awaken a wizened Odysseus, who carried
an oar inland, to where it was mistaken for a fan used for winnowing grain from chaff.

After defeating his rival with a wooden sword, carved from the oar that ferried him to
the island, Miyamoto Musashi, "was watching a small cloud in the sky. As he did, his
soul returned to his body, and it became possible for him to distinguish between the
cloud and himself, between his body and the universe.”

If you ask an old Aborigine
for directions, he will point
to the nearest myth.