A Saturday afternoon in November was approaching the time of twilight, and the vast tract of unenclosed wild known as Egdon Heath embrowned itself moment by moment. Overhead the hollow stretch of whitish cloud shutting out the sky was as a tent which had the whole heath for its floor. The heaven being spread with this pallid screen and the earth with the darkest vegetation, their meeting-line at the horizon was clearly marked. In such contrast the heath wore the appearance of an instalment of night which had taken up its place before its astronomical hour was come: darkness had to a great extent arrived hereon, while day stood distinct in the sky.
Thomas Hardy
Because of literary skill I can only but hope.
“This is a land of contrasts: of dark, scattered woodland creeping up the steep slopes, soaring feelsides leading to vast empty moors, great rocky wind-scoured crags, bubbling becks leading into curling rivers, vast swathes of crimson heather and golden bracken on the turn. With each season this vast, beautiful landscape changes dramatically but it is in winter that the most spectacular transformation takes place.” Genvase Phinn
U say tomahto, I say tomato…
Hardy is so much better.
Hardy, har, har….. :P
sigh. americans (or those married to) . so juvenile.
;P (sorry dave)