Dear Jessie-
As the moon lingers a moment over the Bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming, softly, not to the music, but something else, someplace else. A place remembered. A field of grass where no one seemed to have been except the deer. And the memory strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms.
- Norman

from A River Runs Through It