Today as I rounded the bend into the clearing I ran into J with his three little dogs. I hadn’t seen him in two years. As I raised my hand in greeting it became obvious he didn’t know who I was. At first I guessed two more years of drinking and medications might finally have finished off his memory, but now, thinking of his uncharacteristically clear eyes and almost sheepish demeanor, as if presenting himself too nakedly to the world, I think he was sober. He was sober, while I was still in the fog. When I asked how long they were staying, he was evasive. I don’t blame him. If I ran into me, I’d avoid myself, too.