Spring was ending, and Li the Poet was becoming stronger again, although slowly. Sal-li decided that the problem with Li was that he never thought about himself, just the masses and ideals. She took on the task of nurturing the old man. Taking care of the old man was easy to do, since he was less demanding than her old Mistress. Her life began to take on the rhythms of being. Water had to be fetched, food had to be cooked, and the hovel always had a leak or draft that needed fixing. The old man never seemed to notice the drafts or even if the fire went out due to lack of attention. Li the Poet almost had to be forced to eat, he had eaten better when he was sick, and she found that most things she did she was doing for herself. Where as Li had told her how to garden and what to garden, he seldom came to the garden.
The garden drained well, too well for just the evening thunderstorms of the
Sorrow Mountains, and Sal-li had to carry water to the garden from a spring
that was nearby. The spring formed a small pool that tricked over the stones
to a larger pool , and then to a pool where it gathered with other trickles of
mountain pools. The lower pool was larger and deeper and had no visible outlet, but disappeared into an underwater cave and formed a hidden river. The vegetation was lush around the pools with the center one surrounded by colorful flowers which had been especially fragrant in the springtime.
The flowers were fewer as summer took hold, but they were all vibrant.
As she drew water from the little pool, she had a wonderful view, the Middle sister was behind her, looming tall and very white with her snowy top. See could see the pools below her and out into the valley. She found it hard not to just stop and watch the beauty of the world from there. It was her first favorite spot, cause she found that she was coming there without the bucket for water as often as she was to fetch water.