Regarding trees falling in woods, etc.

There once was a man who said "God
Must think it exceedingly odd
If he finds that this tree
Continues to be
When there's no one about in the Quad."


Dear Sir,
Your astonishment's odd.
I am always about in the Quad.
And that's why the tree
Will continue to be
Since observed by
Yours faithfully,
God

—Ronald Knox

Faking death

I dreamed we were down the Shore, on the beach in a long, low house. It was made of whitewashed wood, and you could more or less see through the slats, kind of like an exaggerated pergola aspiring to be a home. There was astroturf laid down over the sand, and the waves crashing just outside. Inside the structure was an MMA octagon. My daughter and some other folks had unearthed this trove of documents about our late grappling instructor: headlines on yellowing newsprint, telling of his exploits as a fighter. Apparently on top of his other accomplishments he had also fought MMA (note: in real life he had not fought MMA, although at least once he suggested to me that he was thinking about it). Then in the waking world he had died, a traumatic death. But in the dream he had convinced the world that he was dead when in fact he was still among the living. Various luminaries of the fight game came into the structure to pay homage to him, people he had beaten, per the headlines, fawning over his martial prowess, and what a shame about his death; my daughter and I knew, however, that our instructor was just lurking around the corner, on the beach, outside that blasted pergola, living his life.

After some time at this weird wake, my daughter told me she was going to meet one of the lads from the wrestling team at a diner, so I bid her farewell and went down to the water.