Chapter 22 twenty two.I see beautiful images (through the fence gate)

All he knew when he stepped through the gate into his childhood paradise was that something must have been destroyed.So what does it matter?His memory did not deceive him.Imagination didn't add a curve to those great rolling hills, didn't make the mesas overgrown with water and grass more green, and didn't make the iris on the shore more lovely.Night is falling.The little rivers gurgling in the valley beds, the rooks croaking in their nests, a rooster crowing on the hillside--he held his breath, for nothing had changed, the same scene remained. It doesn't matter if something gets destroyed.Whether it was a toy, a spell, or his own heart, these things were his forever, and they were beautiful enough.He could come here and walk through the gate, and the river would be the same river, the pansies would be the same pansies, the mountains would be the same mountains, just as he knew.The house he returned to was his home in the past and is still his home now.As he walked through the pear and pine trees, and came to his own door, Anthony stopped to look behind him, and the eyes of the earth were as charming as ever, shining with magic.