In the summer we fished the lake in the high country where the sky touches the land and the water of the lake is black because of its depth and cold because of the mountains and the fish in it are big and fight hard and taste wonderful when cooked over a campfire. We slept under the stars then and fell asleep naming the constellations, and during the night the wolves came down to look at us. We were not afraid of them because we were invincible back then and the world bent to our strength. In the morning we bathed in the lake and then fished again and all day you could see the line zipping through the soft pure air and the plug going through the water and the fish coming in to it and the sound of them fighting us. We didn’t talk then, just fought the fish and listened to that world vanishing around us.