on the doorstep where the sun shines, and my eyes would look off at the prospect. Life would throb in my veins.
In the middle of the forenoon I would be kneeling in the beds of radishes and slim young onions and lettuce, pulling the weeds from among them and staining my two hands with black roots.
In the middle of the day I would sit in the shade, but where I could see the sunshine touching the brilliant greenness, near the house and afar. And I could see the pond glaring with beams and motes.
In the late afternoon I, with the friend of my heart, would walk down among the green valleys and wooded hills, by fences and crumbling stone walls, until we reached a point of vantage where we could see the sea.
In the night, when the sun had gone and the earth had cooled and the dark, dark gray had fallen over all, we would
