When Algy returned to the banks of the burn on the morning following St. Patrick’s Day, he was relieved to find that the blue burn was once again blue. It was perhaps the last sunny day for a while, so Algy decided to make the most of it while he had the chance. As he leaned back against a rock in the sunshine, watching the gentle flow of the blue water down to the sea, he remembered the opening verses of a poem:

          As if the sky during its emergence
          —when it bubbled its way up out of the sand,
          cooled and then sublimed into vapor
          that blued the dank grey of the atmosphere—
          left a residue of cobalt behind to remind

          from where it had sprung into existence,
          the water rising from this spring
          appears unearthly, as only things
          close to earth, born of earth, can:  
          its blue deeper than the heart of a sapphire.

[Algy is quoting the first two stanzas of the poem Blue Springs by the contemporary American poet C. Dale Young.]