GRYON, SWITZERLAND I went for a long hike with an Australian named Marcus who worked as a hotel manager and could afford to take long, interesting vacations like this one where we happened to be staying at the same hostel in Switzerland in the Alps on the French border. Marcus I remember as being kind, intelligent, and genuine. One of those friends you make right away and maybe never see again. He took this picture and I don’t know why I’m wearing a watch. I don’t identify as a watch wearer even when wearing watches used to be a normal thing to do, but here I am, keeping track of time again, so maybe I just don’t know myself. One more thing, I’m not exactly sure if it was this day, but it was definitely in this place…somewhere in this valley I was walking a lone down a desolate gravel road and there was a driveway a long the side of it that went to a cottage where there was a large vegetable garden and also lots of flowers and artistic relics. A man who by dress, demeanor, skin color, hair style, and voice read as Caribbean waved to me from near the house. It was like he recognized me and was happy to see me. It was very welcoming and mysterious. I don’t want to attach hyperbole to it in retrospect attempting to put it into words. It was really a memorable, and profound experience exchanging that wave with that guy, wondering who he was, and what he was trying to tell me. It could be he was just saying hello. That would be just as good as anything else.