The road to "Pill Hill" is sprinkled a restaurant and homes. About halfway up, I began a 40-mile loop of cambered trail bordered by petals of purple bells and myriad species in various shades of green, but turned back to the main road at a small wooden bridge, rejoining automobiles, bicyclists, and joggers, one in a doctor's white smock, all moving ghostly through a soft rain.

Looking down, dense growth opens to admit the city into its rhizomic system, no point to begin or end.

Jump in
          or
                      walk home.