torrentially speaking, a good flood yielding good mud is both visually and lyrically appealing, and the trees, like bonsai but on stamp on that postcard, weighty as if the image was real too, and the stone, the listless stone... waiting to be influenced... I guess jealousy can motivate if longing for the time when a belief in nothing was better than the lost belief in something... I don't know maybe it's just me but I am kind of pessimistically inclined