In Arcadia

A lovely evening - the sun was shining low through the trees and picking out the tops of the long grass and broom in our neighbour's old orchard.

"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it.".
Tom Stoppard, Arcadia