"To humans, in and out are matters of life and death. Not to me. Warm earth waits just beneath me, the planet's viscous, scalding core. It takes a cool blood to feel that warmth, here at its circumferance. The humans' own heat keeps them from sensing it. I drift for months - year's great night - floating on the outer edge of Earth's corona. The only calendar my blood, how it drugs me."
He goes on about creating his winter space, and then, "A long, long descent into perfect absence. I remember only where I'm going."
Hmmm, that place of presence. I remember, and, today, I live balanced, like a tortoise, on the shell of the earth, encased in loam of sky.