I see two red kites caught in a tree. One is shaped like a liner. As J. and I turn into a side road, I point out a path thru the trees we are to take on our return. J. is telling what he would like to eat on his travels. He has had ice cream three or four times a week. I ask, "Would you prefer pies?" "Yes and the crust." And he names other articles of food but no meat. I ask, "Don't you care for meat any more?" "No."