noon
It was but a miniature precipice that broke to a miniature sea , but it gave an impression of grandeur . Sitting on the bench , with one 's head against the oak , one could , if one chose , see nothing but sky and water . There was nothing but sky and water and air . In the noon stillness there was not even a boat on the lake nor a bird on the wing . The only sounds were those of a hammering far over on the Thorley estate , the humming of an electric car , which at this distance was no more disturbing than the murmur of a bee , and the song of the indigo-bunting , fluted now from the tree-top . To Rosie it was peace , peace without pleasure , but without pain -- as nearly as might be that absorption into nothingness for which she yearned as the Buddhist seeks absorption into God . She rested , not suffering -- at least not suffering anything she could feel .