" The sun was just touching the western hills as we slid into the dock. Every leaf and twig stood out in the clarity of the tawny light. The sky was green in the north and the wind had died. The slowly rolling water was purple and bronze, dark with the coming night, bright with the fading day. It had been a good day -- and our tomorrows were waiting. What kind of days they would be depended on us. "

― , A Place in the Woods