If I had my way, dear, all these fears, these insistent blurs of discontent would fade, and there be old-time meadows with brown and white cows, and those boulders, still in mind, marked the solid world. I'd show you these ridiculous, simple happinesses, the wonders I've kept hold on to steady the world- the brook, the woods, the paths, the clouds, the house I live in, with the big barn with my father's sign on it: