Uncle Bill tried to break his prosaic life by designing a sky-high illusion that he’d be able to reach the Mount Everest’s peak – alone – and come back home safe and sound. If I want to bring about my past I’d have to choose one event, any one, and let your past roll from there. I could start for instance by imagining the farm house in which I spent my childhood. I wouldn’t be able to make it through my memories without that beautiful house. In the morning the porch floor and the banisters were always wet with dew so I had to walk prudently from a point to the next. I could still see the Estonian hawk landing graciously on the porch pillar. He used to eat with us. There were no other hawks around here. He'd fly off the porch once we finished our Sunday lunch. He knows that we saved the leftovers for somebody else, which in our case are our pigs. In our farm we raise pigs