In the series of moments following my collapse, I lay still in the living Earth’s mud, looking up into the trees. It is a series of moments I describe because the collection of these still memories is bound as loosely as the flitting leaves in the cool breeze around me.

My consciousness regained its acuity. I remained motionless. The sinister shapes of branches above me now seemed to protect me from the terrifying sky. The moon was hidden and revealed again beyond threatening clouds. A bullfrog sounded. A bat escaped a tremendous owl. Sharp pain and dull ache played a Busby Berkeley dance in my left shoulder and arm.

When I heard something nearby in the brush my right hand rediscovered my knife. Immediately I had much more strength; the haze was lifted from my mind. The small animal hurried off. Clouds parted and bright moonlight surrounded everything. My vision was crystal clear now. My heart beat steady and sure. The lingering remnants of my fears grew into peaceful courage. Slowly, I stood up.