At first it looks more like a fat white and yellow fish swimming through a green sun-speckled ocean, as if it and the tree and the grass were occupants of a fantastical aquarium.

We conversed about the tree he had brought me, "Fat Albert," but that morning he called the tree "Fat Oscar," and he had seemed to have forgotten some things we had discussed the previous week.

If anyone happens to see a fat black hen, tell her this for me: There's a light in the window, and a warm nest at the base of the pine tree.