That first layer is a howl, a yip, a cackle in the soft morning light. I didn’t sleep well in that log cabin on the alkaline lake. The yellows poured into the room, I saw the sunrise twelve days in a row. Coyotes moaned outside all night, or maybe that was the wind? Give me peace, I wanted to feel I belonged in my skin. I was the one that wanted to exude golden light. These dogs emerged from the darkness. I watched them party all night long, and I heaved a sigh, my ribs extending out into the world and coming back in to my gut.