And if a startled bird flew up, or if a branch creaked in the wood, was this the same as if nothing had happened? We’ll find pleasure again on the banks of the brown Dodder; we’ll walk next the spate and open our minds to the thundering waterfall. Again when the river clears, we’ll see our faces laughing in its untarnished mirror. We’ll wear lilies about our heads in that reflection. But not today.