Something she had not, something she did not grasp, could not arrive at. There was something beyond her. But why must she start on the journey? She stood so safely on the Pisgah mountain.

In the winter, when she rose with the sunrise, and out of the back windows saw the east flaming yellow and orange above the green, glowing grass, while the great pear tree in between stood dark and magnificent as an idol, and under the dark pear tree, the little sheet of water spread smooth in burnished, yellow light, she said, “It is here”.

And when, at evening, the sunset came in a red glare through the big opening in the clouds, she said again, “It is beyond”.

Dawn and sunset were the feet of the rainbow that spanned the day, and she saw the