I come from a small town in a dry county. On a trip to the liquor store at the county line seven summers ago, I turned down the radio, rolled down my window, and heard a voice stagger through the pines. I’m still trying to listen. I used all the q-tips in the world and my ears fluffed full of cotton. I stuck my head in the river and fish swam through quick as silence. The only thing I could think about was that I didn’t know the names of the birds that sang outside my window! I still don’t. But I went back to town and got drunk and fell in love with the first girl I saw.