The wind blew cool on his face.

The burden upon his shoulders seemed to lift.

The clamoring whispers grew fainter in his ears.

And by the time he had retraced his cautious steps back to the orchard all his physical being was strung to the task at hand.

Something had come between his reflective self and this man of action.
Crossing the lane, he took to the west line of sheds, and passed beyond them into the meadow.