I must have been kneeling in the grass for hours, as that, the fiery yellow sun had faded in the distant sky to a cool red disc. Against all hope I had waited to see if my lady of the meadow would reappear, knowing that it was highly unlikely that she would. And though time does not heal all wounds-in truth I find it has little to do with the healing process-it certainly presents us with other items of thought. Presently, I was overcome with a longing for home, wherever that may be. My original plan of finding my identity was renewed. I thought of those pet dogs that, while lacking in understanding, were moved by instinct to and familiarity in finding their way home when lost. Maybe I too could benefit from this providential feature nature is graced with. So, I got up from where I sat and moved towards the forest.
Finding a large gap in the trees where a path led, I entered the woods. It was dark but not so dark so that I couldn't see. The sky outside the forest was still red. The day was not yet through though I anticipated night soon. It was a strange thing that the amnesia, being as thorough as it was, had knocked the memory of 'night' out of me, but not the 'sense' of it. For I knew the day changed into night just as a person changes into a different set of clothes, but that was the whole of it. Night was a mere word to me. And so in scanning the interior of the woods I spotted an area of ground hidden in the shadow of its tree towering above it. "That's what night must be like," I thought to myself. The hue of the darkest light stretching from land to sky and back again. Calming the nerves by veiling what grabs one's attention with a brilliant presence. A glow instead of a shine. At peace with what the eyes have not known in the day.
As I moved along the trail, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jerked my head around to see who it was but there was no one there. And then another tap, and another, and then one on the top of my head. By this time I realized it was raining. But, instead of seeking shelter, I continued on in what appeared to be a light down pour. I listened to the gentle 'tap-tap' of the raindrops coming to rest on the leaves of trees. They coated the vegetation with a refreshing spray. I heard the faint chorus of a song rising with the mist, in between splashes.
