"The great relevation had never come. The great relevation perhaps never did come. Instead there were the little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark"

Virginia Woolf

I saw cranes, horses, fields collecting rain, shacks and gardens, trees skinny and crooked from the wind, baby vineyards, and rows of white winter trees, farm houses made of red stone, lawn chairs and old men, long rusted sprinklers lying abandoned in a field, phone lines like swallows, lost rivers, old rail cars fire truck red, and rusted turquoise left like open paintings in the daylight, the mounds of uprooted tree trunks, lonely cemeteries, and yellow sprouting fields, things starting to grow again, and passing into the vibrancy of a flashing window.