When you looked at me and told me that this was a spot that had to stay, I knew that you held the place as special above others. Yes, you whispered: It is an aquifer. Water is held here like in a sponge. It is slowly released. It looks like it might be dirty. It can get murky, but it is very pure.

I cannot promise to stay this spot. To your clouding eyes I pleaded: I am but one in a world of many. Some will decide that this is not a spot that has to stay. There are more of this type than there are of my type. All that I can do is return from time to time, to witness its undiscovery.

I hope.