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3 Cosmogony A ball of yarn, a hill maintain an equipoise until their neatness starts to bore the gods of potential and energy who hedge bets, reckoning the odds of when the rest will be set in motion, and who, first stumbling upon this clew, constructed both the incline and the inclination to unwind. Like most gods, though, they haven’t planned to stay; they mastermind the scheme, ex nihilo, then slip behind the shadow show and designate an agent, chief, remaker of their mischief made. Each time, disguised, this leitmotif gets salvaged and replayed, a universe begins, for orogens and origins suppose a Way Things Were before some volatile, untimely That— sweetness perverted by the core or the belfry by the bat, or here, a hilly green, whose still life, eerily serene, completes their best contrivance yet: from high above, a williwaw, a hiss, and then the silhouette of one terrific paw. ...

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