From where I stood, when the light fell at last among the furrows of that distant headland, I thought: You and I could go there and live beneath the alligator junipers, the fluted sky, and the high, hard shoulder of the land. And there, there would only be the promise. Rain and wind and ruined rocks, sunsets starlight, the dry chill of early mornings. We could live there, in the shade of those trees for a very long time, years perhaps. Until one night, satisfied with it all, we would purposely peel our fingers loose from the grasses and the hollow stones and fall into the stars.