Imagine. Imagine it is still night. Imagine sitting on the ground. Wrapped now in a warm rug. Imagine sitting by the side of a still lake. Imagine all this quietly watching the moon and its reflection ripple gently across the sky. Imagine the night slowly fading into morning. And the slowly light darining up at the edges. And imagine this all in the light returning to a sewage farm. That is how it feels here. Imagine.