Of an end day I could ask not much more than what I had been given. The weather was generous and the clouds allowed for my hyper sensitive eyes, with the day’s light showers adding a clip to the river’s gait that washed away pesky mosquitoes.The character of the forest, too, was beautiful and nostalgic, like such a place had done in days what an urban environ only does in years: grant familiarity. The cool humidity coupled with the staining of downed logs and wooden steps, giving green mosses a stage to air their overlooked effervescence. The omnipresent Damselfies had rallied around small stalks of protective vegetation, and their usual lower river haunts were abandoned in favour of more open habitat. The frogs came out as well, just as they had always done, but with the humid air their presence traced to a homelike, amphibian state. The samples were taken, and for a first I had time to spare. I decided to straddle the outflow culvert from which my task has sprung, and the flitting flies helped bring closure to my short love’s exposure.