3/11/99

With my father, staying at his house. One area is closed off at night by four sliding walls. We eat dinner, he orders me a beer. On the way to his house I encounter somebody else's "property," in the woods, which is populated by cats which are mangy and of various peculiar colors. At dinner we decide to vacation somewhere, at a campground which has a woods in back which contains some kind of special spot with cliffs and water where I enjoy swimming. I am pleased by this. I find a slim book of poetry with a picture on the front: a beach with some kind of manmade bridge or enclosure on the right side of the frame.

I say to my father, "Do you recognize this place?" I expect him to recognize it, but he doesn't.