sometimes in the dry air that brushed against her skin , brisk and full of energy , or in the impetuous and impatient call to attention of the legions of crows that swooped down from the highest branches to pick up discarded bits of food along the side of the highway in the early morning , perhaps in the unquenchable fervor of the river rapids that hit the rocks , releasing a white spray that settled to a fine mist through which she imagined she could once again see the woman herself in all those fleeting moments that passed too quickly to register in a lasting and meaningful sense , those characteristics , those elements that comprised her , josefinashe , in her alluring and captivating grandeur , her soulful and poetic reserve , her infinite sadness .