What have I found here, hidden, under this rock in the middle of a meadow? I was lost, and could not find my way...and I wandered. I wandered a lot. I met a woman once and she wandered with me and since she left (or was it I who left her?) I wandered ever since. I met many people wandering, and we would sometimes get to know each other well. Perhaps upwards toward ninety-eight percent of them are off wandering somewhere else, and, in many ways, they made the journey worthwhile. But at the same time, each person I met led me to wander elsewhere, and soon I lost my way, in the brush and the confusion and darkness and all, and my flashlight ran out of batteries. I found another flashlight soon after and I looked for all those people I had met but they were gone and I was alone. Alone. Alone. With only a flashlight, and that's when I realized I was lost.
Was this the meadow in which Rafaella and I lay arm in arm and I spoke to her in Italian? No, because when I wandered with Rafaella, I woke up in solitude. No, this is not that meadow.
I do not recognize that rock. It is true! So I lifted it up and what did I find underneath? What was hidden under that rock that my wandering led me too? It was beautiful and frightful at the same time. No doubt! I lifted up that rock and I saw it.
Life! Life! Life! I tell you!
And suddenly I was on a path that, although unfamiliar, I knew well.