by day the blue will pale down into white where it touches the white of the land, after sunset it has a new circumference-orange, melting upwards into tenderest purple. but the core of blue persists, and so it is by night. then the stars hang like lamps from the immense vault. the distance between the vault and them is as nothing to the distance behind them, and that farther distance, though beyond colour, last freed itself from blue. -e.m. forster (a passage to india)
Saturday, November 28, 2015
home again . .
the trees in connecticut are bare and brown, but here in manhattan the callery pears, gingkos and locust trees still have many leaves.
it's another grey and rainy day, but thankfully the rain along the drive home was light.
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