SWAYING TREE TOPS 



I drop down the path on the steep 

 side of a ravine, through the tangle 

 of undergrowth, and come upon a 

 stream a yard wide, which gurgles 

 over the gray stone of its bed. I feel 

 that I am isolated in a strange coun- 

 try. (I have lived for months six 

 squares away.) These little experi- 

 ences teach one that the present and 

 the near-at-hand is full of the undis- 

 covered. 



