There are shadows ahead. I see darkness coming down the mountain. Light dies, and in the valley, the sky will be dark under the trees. There will be darkness in the shadows; darkness can take many forms. We must pass through: there is no help for it. Yet, when we find the light again, will it find us? A journey changes the traveler, and who will we be tomorrow once we have passed through the night?
I don’t know. Good or ill, I hope, if we make it, if we see the light again, we’ll travel in the light again.
Tale Told 