But around the world, they go into trance in different ways, and in Pakistan, the way they do it is they burn juniper leaves and they sacrifice an animal, pour the blood of the animal on the leaves and then inhale the smoke.

And I spent two months in the caves of southwest France with the poet Clayton Eshleman, who wrote a beautiful book called Juniper Fuse.

They stand in so great dread of some of them, that when out at sea they are afraid to mention even their names, and carry dung, lime stone, juniper wood, and some other articles of the same nature in their boats, in order to terrify and prevent their too near approach.