I'm traveling somewhere. I hike up to a tower in the woods at the top of a hill. I'd like to take a picture of it, but it is very difficult to get an angle where there is a good view. I am frustrated by the limitation of the lens. I think I am trying to take a picture for some project I'm working on for someone else, a certain chess situation or something.

I walk down the hill into the woods a little ways, looking for a better angle, and come to a small creek. I am holding my digital camera, and I try to wrap the strap very carefully around my finger so as not to drop it, then I think I put it in my pocket. I place one foot down and it sinks deep into the mud, then I step to the opposite bank.

I am immediately covered by small lizards that occupy the riverbank. There are several different kinds, and they seem harmless. They are crawling on every available surface.

Tim H. comes strolling down the hill, dressed in his usual city shine, hardly appropriate for the woods. He reaches the river, steps in the mud and recoils in disgust. He tells me, without provocation and with some attitude, that he's hiking up to the other side of the hill, to meditate, like he did with his sealed bottle before (in real life, he carries a tiny sealed bottled with secret contents). I say "um, ok."