I'd been waiting all day for the rock and roll doctor. He flew out of the city still wearing his OR scrubs in a Yugo so New-Yorked that it hardly ran.
Four people shared this farm, and each knew his was the most beautiful part.
He cracked open a beer and whistled for Binky. Let's walk.
As we climbed the hill, I could see him relax, loosening up as he took long high steps through the brush. Binky circled us in a hyperkinetic frenzy, fetching sticks and rocks.
Dr. Heath showed me a place the ferns had reclaimed and jumped up on a rock, finally out of the city.