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Farther down the flowing stream lies a body of water, mostly stagnant, with depth unknown — the culmination of countless cloudbursts, downpours, monsoons and tsunamis.

The pool’s inhabitants, once believed to be waterproof, are now drenched, saturated and waterlogged.

The water itself is brackish and dark. The clouds above block reflection. The air outside is humid, heavy and dank.

Yet a little farther along there is runoff — a gentle flow of trickling water. The clouds, having cleared, now reveal the sparkling dew blanketing the sprouting greenery.

A spring with water pure and sweet gently spews, merging with the briney runoff. A new stream is born — a stream flowing forth with new purpose, carving riverbeds with rushing water — water that is mostly fresh, clean and pure, but still with a trace of saltiness remaining.

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