N 48° 43.164ʹ W 151° 06.435ʹ; 25.07.12

Three friends were discussing a game

in which prana

—    vital breath —

had been named.

At which breath, they had but to guess:

one said, “the first”;

one said, “the last”;

and one said, “the next.”

I’ve enjoyed some pretty good air on this trip.  From the countrified air of the Great Plains to the rarified air of the Rockies, from the arid stillness of Chaco Canyon to the pine-scented seabreeze at Asilomar—even the hyperclean air of scuba tanks amid kelp forests in Monterey Bay—it’s been most invigorating.

But for the best air on the planet, you really have to stick your nose out over the bow of an oceangoing vessel in the waters off Alaska.  Breathe deep!  It’s thick.  It’s moist.  It’s cool.

And I cannot wait for the next.