There will come soft rains.... - Ray Bradbury
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, and swallows circling with their shimmering sound; and frogs in the pools singing at night, and wild plum trees in tremulous white; robins will wear their feathery fire, whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; and not one will know of the war, not one will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree if mankind perished utterly; and spring herself, when she woke at dawn, would scarcely know that we were gone.
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