It shall be told in the selfsame strange manner in which it was witnessed. I am not the one to believe that nature has a purpose in all things but of course, nature does not render the iguana a bright blue or the dreamy bluebell, gray. And so, she was the color of ripe golden wheat. It was autumn. The earth was full of passion. She walked through the trees barefoot and the evening breeze seemed to thread through her every nerve. "Oh! Beautiful earth", she said, hugging the tree and spent hours under its shade. She was wearing brown, the color of the earth, the color of her lovely eyes. The earth seemed to draw life from her very presence. She seemed so real, so tuned. Her laughter was like the rustling of autumn leaves under her feet, her gait like an autumn leaf flying in the wind. There was a strange melody about her, some melody which struck the chords of my heart, something full, in sorrow or deep joy. She was like a reflection, perhaps, one could not discern, but then a reflection of the Earth. Not many knew this woman as I had witnessed. I was sure that she could be found in as common a place as the supermarket asking for chocolate ice cream or a kilo of fresh beans. I saw her again, this time, playing with butterflies. She held one in her palms. I waited for her to save that rare species but she set it free. I was disappointed. "What a fallacy is our human existence!" We try to safeguard what is lovely and imprison it in our houses hoping to extend its beauty, to save it from every danger we can purport, in the process, making of its wings a vestigial organ. Without uttering a word, she had made me look into myself! Today, she was in white. It was about to rain and the earth seemed to sense it as a woman knows the footsteps of her beloved. Like a water lily dancing in the wind, she went about her work. A crevice became visible within. In this little crevice hides vicious fear; fear to behold the truth; fear to look at light; white, pure light; fear frightened of its own evanescence. I felt a queer relief, somewhere a crevice was being filled, one among a million human souls. I was scared out of my wits. She was weeping. I knew that to be consoled was not in her capacity. It rained very silently, thickly, continuously. I was a wreck, hated by myself. One question remained: "Why does her sorrow claw into my very veins?" Home closed in with a pang. "Merciless Night. O Dark Mirror! You bring to me my own image!" I flung my pity away. I had witnessed a sorrow that had been naked, stripped of its cloaks. I knew why. Night and I hugged each other like very good friends do, and laughed ravenously, emptied of wants. I dressed with great care but the reason was as of then not revealed to my consciousness. I was returning home to the untrodden evergreen forest. The airport was busy, feet moving about, eyes searching, noisy. I glanced sideways popping my head out of the newspaper. She was beside me. I commented on the weather and exchanged a few words. It was time for her plane. Her eyes were endless. "Was this going to be the last time?" I gazed into her eyes (Oh, it really wasn't that long, only fractions of a minute.). I seemed to be disappearing.. .oops It is poignant and I daren't put into words what I felt for the universe, for Life. LOVE Hmm, reflecting in time is fun. I am growing. With a few more steel gray streaks in my hair, I shall be perfect. "Life has a funny sense of timing. When Love claimed my soul, I found her right there." I dressed with great care, appreciative, happy, filled. I walked slowly to my favorite riverbank with a couple of sandwiches. I rushed to save her. She seemed so fragile on that hard boulder. "Had she fallen? Was she too hurt?" my thoughts race faster than I do. I touched her face and checked her breath. I wondered at myself. I was unable to cry. I didn't feel like it. I kissed her soft lips. I decided to take her back and then laughed at myself. She was just where she had to be-the rock, the tiny wavelets, the ferns, the bullfrogs in the night and a starry sky with a smile upon her lips, that smile which her brown eyes had had. I left her, sleeping quietly, with a singular feeling of belonging to the Earth. I had known one of those rare human beings to whom the Earth belongs; with whom the Earth shares her innermost secrets.