I have discovered as a verb. To enature means to cease observing the world and to become the act of observing. It means to taste the salt on your own skin and recognize it as the same salt that wept from the first life crawling out of the primordial ooze. Final Thought for Entry -1... Tomorrow, I will attempt to make fire without a lens. Yesterday, I learned to read the clouds. Today, I learned the Latin name of the bird that wakes me at dawn ( Zosterops lateralis — the silvereye). But I will not trap it. I will not own it.

I am on (I suspect there are many islands within this one—the island of thirst, the island of loneliness, the island of bliss). I have named this first phase "The Unfastening." Every day, another rivet of my civilized personality pops loose. Part V: A Letter to the World I Left To whoever finds this bottle:

There is a moment, after the roar of the sea has swallowed the last echo of the engine, when you realize you are not stranded. You are planted .

This is the first entry of what I have come to call my Enature —a word that did not exist in my old vocabulary. In the city, we had ‘nature’ as a concept, a postcard, a weekend escape. But here, on this desert island, Nature is not a backdrop. It is a person, a force, a liturgy. I am learning to spell it with a silent, holy reverence: .

End of Entry -1...