Now that I have spent 44 days in a non-depressed state — I awoke August 17 to discover it was gone, and knowing it would stay gone, as in fact it has done — I can certify that it is not a question of time.
I have more things to do than can be done correctly in the time given. I also have to do these things under major obstruction. This is all true and not a result of my not knowing how to get things done.
Et voilà. And my friend from the fourth grade has just finished hiking the John Muir Trail, 249 miles and several passes over 12,000 feet.
“After ten years spent in the heart of it, rejoicing and wondering, bathing in its glorious floods of light, seeing the sunbursts of morning among the icy peaks, the noonday radiance on the trees and rocks and snow, the flush of alpenglow, and a thousand dashing waterfalls with their marvelous abundance of irised spray, it still seems to me above all others the Range of Light.” –J.M.
I saw passes I had climbed in the photographs, passes I never expected, or meant to have to forsake as I have done. “Pero estás en tu país,” my colleague keeps saying, and I, “Que no lo estoy, y no me vengas a decir eso.”
And my friend from the third grade, that I met in Portugal, called me from her house in the countryside of Bourgogne; we always spoke French but she speaks Spanish now.