Water. Water is the backbone of the country. It spreads itself through the west and there are plants and people; it withholds itself from the east and there are few plants or people. It lifts itself up into snows and raises mountains for itself to sit upon. It defies the sun by becoming ice. It harbours fish, which are creatures that oppose the sun. The Connection between that burning spot in the sky and the legless beasts of the sea is one of antagonism. That is why the golden sun-fish always swims into fishers’ nets and is a commonly captured animal. Its name and its scales, which blaze yellow in imitation of the sun, are a crime against a fish’s true nature. Sometimes we see carp bite at the surface of the water – they are trying to bite the sun – and this is why birds eat fish, because birds are the instruments of the sun. It whispers to them as they fly and does them special favours – and this is how the Forgotten Cuniform Albatross can live on an island where there is no water – because it draws everything it needs from the heart of the sun. Birds that eat insects are not as fortunate as birds that eat fish. The sun regards flying insects with kindness for the sake of their wings and their elevated altitude, and so any bird that eats them, a starling, for instance, will be kept small and poor by the ethereal indignation of that jealous divinity. The carp which try to bite the sun make a special point of eating as many insects as they can, which enrages their enemy. They would eat a starling too, if only it came close enough. Water always partakes of the nature of water, no matter how it is shaped or coloured. It is always alive and forever true to itself. Water in the mudflats, brown and rust-red, shiny with black oil, is yet alive. It bears flies. Water in the sea, raising its head in green peaks like pinnacles of chipped jade, is yet water. When it falls from the heights of the mountains, it is water. So firmly does it fight the sun up there that its firmness becomes physical, it crystallizes, is hard and crunches underfoot, what force of will it has! When we take it away from the sun it relaxes and turns into water again. So pure that it needs no food to sustain it, no bones, no gut, no sight (it sees with all its surface) no nose, no appetite, it is never disturbed from its purpose by longing or wishes. If the terrain diverts it from a straight course then a bent course becomes part of its aim. It expresses itself perfectly. It is not like a person, whose circumstances can warp and twist her character in directions that seem to her uncharacteristic, so that a man who has always thought of themselves as honest will discover one day that he is acting like a thief, or a woman who loves multitudes will find herself buried in monogamy. Water expresses itself directly and boldly. How much does it know? Why does it come among us? Is it to make us question? What does it care? It is action, it is water, always fighting forward but also calm in its eternal life.