Very much later. Lost for words under the vast ash tree again. Deep night, dense darkness, the creek gargling nearby, carrying its waters down the valley and within the wink of an eye, mind traces its journey along rivers to some distant ocean that remains unseen but felt. All the time. Meanwhile, the hills remain quiet, except for a random wind brushing through leaves and bushes. Shivering. A sudden chill. Weathers and dreams and maybe half asleep already, with the dense week settling and the capacities for sorted thoughts considerably worn off. Have a soft night wherever you are.