No matter where you look for it, the sun only rises in the east.

From Alfred’s journal

Switch woke me before light this morning, insisting we go to the west side of the elm because the maples over there were catching fire with it. They were, too, but the fire was coming from behind us. For a long time I believed that where I sat changed what I saw, and I moved around a great deal on the strength of that belief, east branch, west branch, the low fence by the Harlows' yard. No matter where you look for it, the sun only rises in the east. What I got for all that moving was a better view of the same thing, which is not nothing, and is not what I was after. Switch did not seem disappointed; he ate an acorn and watched the maples anyway.