By the time it came to the edge of the forest the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it said to itself, ‘There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.’
– A. A. Milne –
Vandaag verjaart mijn oudste. Een dag met een gouden randje.