Algy took cover in the thick Marram grass on the top of the sand dunes, and gazed out across the pale sand. There was a strange light today and, despite the wind, the sea was very quiet, with an odd pallid shimmer that perhaps suggested a storm to come. As always, the wind blew constantly through the tall grasses, with a swishing, rustling motion all around him. Its perpetual, insistent whispering reminded Algy of a poem:

         There is no dusk to be,
             There is no dawn that was,
          Only there’s now, and now,
             And the wind in the  grass.

          Days I remember of
             Now in my heart, are now;
          Days that I dream will bloom
             White peach bough.

          Dying shall never be
             Now in the windy grass;
          Now under shooken leaves
             Death never was.

[Algy is quoting the poem An Eternity by the American 20th century Modernist poet and Librarian of Congress, Archibald MacLeish.]

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