The Nothing That Is Not There

"Follow the blowing leaves," the wind said as I walked alone, "And I will kindle the memories in the stones on which you tread. I have ruffled the fur of the beast as it trod upon their backs, carried and diluted the sound of the lonely yodel, sent the tamoshanter of the fresh-faced and hopeful girl soaring among the tree limbs, seen many become determined, desperate, inspired, afraid, frantic, and finally, silent, until only the stones and I remained."