“Tut, tut, child !” said the Duchess to Alice. “Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.”
Thus I see a mushroom in a crevice. It is reflecting a limited light source. It shines.
Alice should be able to see a caterpillar sitting on the mushroom, smoking hookah and puffing fat smoke rings, the "off-with-your-head" Queen shouting again and again at the top of her voice behind the mushroom, and the whole pack of cards, the King and the Queen all rising up into the air.
I see through Alice's eyes, through those furrows, twist and turn, drop steeply, and move on.
I am one of the Alices.