There was an underlying tone of sadness in don Juan's voice. I wanted to apologize, but he began to talk again. "You don't have to look at your hands, " he said. "Like I've said, pick anything at all. But pick one thing in advance and find it in your dreams. I said your hands because they'll always be there. "When they begin to change shape you must move your sight away from them and pick something else, and then look at your hands again. It takes a long time to perfect this technique." I had become so involved in writing that I had not noticed that it was getting dark. The sun had already disappeared over the horizon. The sky was cloudy and the twilight was imminent. Don Juan stood up and gave furtive glances towards the south. "Let's go, " he said. "We must walk south until the spirit of the water hole shows itself."