" Seen from above, the canopy of oak and make and pine is pierced by the pond, which looks back at you like some green eye, knowing and ancient. The air above the pond dives into clefts of coolness, then rises up at the warmth of the margins. Down the path, filigrees of blackflies and mosquitos dance in the heat waves given off by men and women and their domestic fires. Joyous bats dart about. "

― , The Garden Party