on a bleached out grassy bank with the hot sun sending it stupefying rays over us, as spiders scampered in the grass, the babble of the stream increased the drousy feeling.  I think of days spent in rambling around dark pine-hollows, where the unmelted ice made it chilly, and then in the middle of the afternoon, coming out into the sun-bright world and stopping at some mud-splattered village to buy a few cakes or chocolate.  How strange and far off this village seems, made magic by the slanting sunlight.