I was invited by an editor in San Antonio to contribute to an anthology of definitions of words used to depict the natural world; Trinity University intended to publish the book. They sent me some samples, which seemed deeply informed with experience of nature, something I've tried fairly successfully to avoid. Here in Fresno it's easy, what with the malathion pouring out of the sky and killing most everyone, only a fool would go outside unless he got paid for it. In Brooklyn, where Hive half a year, some nature is still left, but in tiny patches that are usually hidden behind expensive homes. The places I've never been invited to. When the weather is good I often walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, and even though the water below is full of sewage I'd guess that it's still part of the natural world. For that matter, so is my wife, and we're still very close, so I'm not as isolated as the above might suggest. To make a short story even shorter, I submitted my definition to the eager, wait…