Marc Peter Keane, in his remarkable set of meditative explorations, Dear Cloud, asks what if we had the ability to act on our inner urge to experience life as another person, not just hypothetically, but to actually live their lives - to be that lonely man whose chance meeting in the high-desert changes his life forever, or the new-born babe amazed at its still unfathomed world? And not just other people, but to intimately experience the unique viewpoints of other forms of life on this planet - an ancient cedar struck by lightning, a cheetah out for blood. And going even further, to delve into the spirit of place and occupy the inanimate - a tide pool, the mirror surface of a pond. Mixing a devoted naturalist's awe with what seems almost shamanic insight, seasoned with inspired and delightfully wry big-picture matter-of-factness, Dear Cloud comprises fascinatingly detailed observations and unexpected realizations about the world we live in. These thoughts take the form of letters sent home by a shape-changing protagonist who slips seamlessly between various identities, experiencing both the profound physical solitariness of every existence, and paradoxically, their absolute interconnectedness.