Perhaps it was Maggie, perhaps not. In solitary moments magpies will perch on a branch and mutter soft soliloquies of whines and squeals and chatterings, oblivious to what goes on around them. It is one of those things, I suppose, intelligence now and then does, must in fact now and then do, must think, must play, must imagine, must talk to itself.... What, finally, intelligence could be for: finding your way back.

A Garlic Testament: Seasons on a Small New Mexico Farm (ed. UNM Press, 1992) - ISBN: 9780826319609