If I knew how, I would ask for­give­ness, but of whom? Of Aeore? The Sky? Myself?
Who else?
Are you afraid?
Not of death.
Of what?
Of that enor­mous sky.
You’re going to die.
Well, kill me then, says I.
You’re going to die then.
…
Well I said kill me then or else be quiet.

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(This pho­to­graph was taken by Glei­son Miranda of Brazil’s National Indian Foun­da­tion [FUNAI] on a recent fly­over of an uncon­tacted Indian tribe in the Brazil­ian state of Acre. The quo­ta­tion is from Peter Matthiessen’s At Play in the Fields of the Lord.)