Which brings to mind one more notion to add to the bit about Singers of echoes and Echoers of songs: the notion of Dance. Not the weekend dance in the Saturday-night sense, where you two-step to music you’ve heard before and always know -- even if only in a cellular way -- just about where your two-step is headed . . . but the Daily Dance with the wilder step, to a tune as soundless as the eelgrass tune, to an echo of a song or a song still unechoed.  A dance where you can never really have much notion where you are headed. You can trip off to places so wild and so wiggy that you don't know where you are until you get back.

And sometimes not even know you tripped off at all because you never get back to know that you’ve left . . . .