Det nämns vid flera tillfällen tidigare i boken att Wen frös dalens trädgård i vad han anser vara ett enda perfekt ögonblick:
A few cherry blossom petals drifted down onto Wen's head from one of the trees that grew wild along the streamlets.
“And this perfect day will last for ever,” he said. “The air is crisp, the sun is bright, there is ice in the streams. Every day in this valley will be this perfect day.”
“Could get a bit repetitive, master,” said Clodpool.
Lobsangs gåva till sin herre (någon som har spenderat mer än 800 år av sitt onaturligt långa liv att sova upp blommorna) var att slutligen låta träden mogna och ge honom den största gåvan av alla; en äkta överraskning .
A breeze blew the scent of cherry blossom. Just once, thought Lu-Tze, it would be nice to pick cherries.
och
Lu-Tze had been right, Lobsang knew. Time was a resource. You could learn to let it move fast or slow, so that a monk could walk easily through a crowd and yet be moving so fast that no one could see him. Or he could stand still for a few seconds, and watch the sun and moon chase one another across a flickering sky. He could meditate for a day in a minute. Here, in the valley, a day lasted for ever. Blossom never became cherries.
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