Postscript

Oh yes, this postscript. I nearly forgot.

Just after I woke, while I was lying there half-awake and confused, this:

I see a very young Changing Woman, the Goddess Estanatlehi of the Navajo. She is standing on the middle of a desert plain of red earth and scrub, the plants in those three shades of green corresponding with the three plants that grow there: the silver-green of the sage, the new spring green of the grass, and that darker juniper evergreen. She is looking out over the world She has just created. She, too, is newly made. She is satisfied. From Her the cardinal directions flow out, east, south, west, and north.

I think it is all right.