The next time I returned, the dog had wept, this I was sure of. A big red flower lay beneath her ear and now, just so, the two made quite the pair. Some wind carried mirth across the Lakes. I saw it sitting itself down between the flower and the creature’s ear. Other things appeared as they had been, the old man over there, the ravens here, some sun, some hope, some tar. The three of them sat well into the night together on the human bench; the mirth, the dog, the flower.