Algy flew out of the forest and onwards to one of the loveliest parts of the peninsula. There he spent a happy few hours exploring the woods and shore in the golden afternoon sun. Reclining on the dry heather, he watched the tide running up into the sea loch, and thought:
when all the golden birds
fly home across the blue deep water;
On shore I sit rapt in its scattering
departure rustles through the trees.
This farewell is vast and separation draws close,
but reunion, that also is certain.
[From the poem Now it is fall by the early 20th century Finnish poet Edith Södergran, translated from the Swedish by Averill Curdy.]