And she was singing to herself in a thin but happy
voice that was not unlike an old and throaty corncrake: "The birds are
singing....Hark! Come out and play....Life is an endless
search...._I've_ just begun...!"
They listened for a little while, and then ran headlong up to join
her.
SIGNS EVERYWHERE!
IX
And it was somewhere about here and now--the exact spot impossible to
determine, since it was obviously a circular experience without
beginning, middle or end--that the gigantic character of the Day
declared itself in all its marvellous simplicity. For as they dived
deeper and deeper towards its centre, they discovered that its centre,
being everywhere at once, existed--nowhere. The sun was always rising
--somewhere.
In other words, each seeker grasped, in his or her own separate way,
that the Splendour hiding from them lay actually both too near and far
away for any individual eye to see it with completeness. Someone,
indeed, had come; but this Someone, as Judy told herself, was "simply
all over the place." To see him "distinkly is an awful job," according
to Uncle Felix; or as Come-Back Stumper realised in the middle of
another clump of bramble bushes, "Perspective is necessary to proper
vision.
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