whoa. those are incredibly visual.
For some reason it reminded me of one of m most favorite books, 'the horseman on the roof.' The story of nobleman who was exiled from Italy after a duel and comes back while riding through Provence in a hot summer time of an epidemic of cholera. It's intensely beautiful about love and death, really extraordinary a sort of the difficult way of a pilgrim. Here is a passage
" The glints of reddened light stretched out until they were like those strands of pale hair that certain spiders hang on the wind, and before disappearing, they wrapped themselves one last time around the naked branches of the trees from which, thread by thread and cautiously, they were picked off by the still-burning shadows. The west was sighing with regret."
and then here is the end :
" On the morning of departure, Angelo immediately gave back to the horse whom he had himself fed , every day, with oats. He could be proud of this pace. He could see coming to him, while cantering, the pink mountains, so close that he could distinguish on their lower slopes the rise of the larch and pine trees.
" Italy is there, right behind" he was thinking.
He was riding on air. "
For some reason it reminded me of one of m most favorite books, 'the horseman on the roof.' The story of nobleman who was exiled from Italy after a duel and comes back while riding through Provence in a hot summer time of an epidemic of cholera. It's intensely beautiful about love and death, really extraordinary a sort of the difficult way of a pilgrim. Here is a passage
" The glints of reddened light stretched out until they were like those strands of pale hair that certain spiders hang on the wind, and before disappearing, they wrapped themselves one last time around the naked branches of the trees from which, thread by thread and cautiously, they were picked off by the still-burning shadows. The west was sighing with regret."
and then here is the end :
" On the morning of departure, Angelo immediately gave back to the horse whom he had himself fed , every day, with oats. He could be proud of this pace. He could see coming to him, while cantering, the pink mountains, so close that he could distinguish on their lower slopes the rise of the larch and pine trees.
" Italy is there, right behind" he was thinking.
He was riding on air. "