Patrick Carrington Leaving the Lowlands I am in no way the right man for this place. I try to believe I could learn to live like the wild animals, to find nourishment in seeds and berries, at peace in the thorny chaparral, independent of baggage. Yet I know I am totally unacquainted with them, worried about the bread supply, troubled I am not in any manner able or faithful. All men know this—and still I climb toward the perch of gods as if I am that angel looking homeward, where each breath will slowly kill me because I move there uninvited, unwelcome, because I am what I am and no more.

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