The idea of "truth" is revealed through language in this rare short short story written by the wonderful Virginia Woolf. Truth in flight, truth in the flight of a heron at sunset or at dawn. Fog glazed like sugar on the mountains in the distance, leaf light, rising smoke, ferns like feathers, images all that shape the story, drive it forward, proving what a master the reader is working with.
In just 5 paragraphs, this story opens the eyes of the reader, a flash of brilliance and beauty, so much left unsaid but cleverly so. I loved loved loved this piece, but then again, rarely has Woolf ever disappointed me.