The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees

Consider it like this.

A multitude is walking down a broad dirt highway. Maybe it is grass covered. The multitude is young and old, every color, every race, men and women, some walking alone, some with a partner, some with their children, some with their friends. Some are talking, some are singing, some are singing, some are silent.

As they walk, every now and then, one falls down, and the people around them stop for a moment, and stand there. After a moment, horrified and screaming or sad and quiet, those who stopped walk on. No trace of the fallen remains to the visible eye. The grass-covered highway has swallowed him.

The music is playing in what we now call the background. (Background to what? Foreground of Our Being?)

Life & Time flows past me. I stand still.

What seems flat and static is strange and complex. A crystal origami lattice, folding and unfolding into and around itself. Constant transformations, unseen and unnoticed, as the transforming becomes the transformed.

Always becoming.

Secrets are not and cannot be kept. Not here.