This morning, at the bottom of the arroyo with Blue, as we were wandering along not far from the road, in an area of dirt and gravel and desert brush, I saw on the ground an old empty packet of Lucky Strike cigarettes, squashed flat but still in its cellophane wrapper. I thought to myself how I would mention it in one of the entries I would write this morning, but now that I’ve done so I don’t know what else to say about it. I noticed it, is all, because it was lying there in the path, and it looked sort of nice, even though it was a piece of litter or trash.