Werner Herzog, one of the most renowned German directors of the
    twentieth century, set out on a walk across Europe to visit his friend
    Lotte Eisner, a well respected film critic who he believed to be dying.

Walked in another direction this morning, to the the eastern edge of
town. As sun crested a mountain storing what history can’t recall, I
faced the math of ninety-three million miles.

Truck’s horn bellowed over fields, disturbing an important conference
of crows. To take the path thousands of years ago by the Milling Stone
People, is not to speak this simultaneous sense of deeper and deeper
recesses of oneiric inwardness within the stillness of the stone, and the
name we gave them.

'There are many, many worlds,' he told me.
'One day you will see that the many worlds
are separated by little more than a dream.'

Where am I going,
with the sun in my eyes
patting me on the back?