Whosoever finds themselves before the striking architecture of this mornings atmosphere no doubt has begun the day enriched forever. A colossal fleet of silver billows troop across the sky in magnificent silence, its ocean not yet fell its full solution of blue, gives pass for a serene and blessed journey. The last star of yesternight joins the crescent moon in a tapered farewell, while the suns entrance is made, grand and steady. The nearer it climbs increases a shade of magenta glow over the brumous beasts that pass, who seem none to notice, their backs are a-burning. Of what one may imagine the gateway to Eternity may resemble, if the common mind could conjure such majesties that a heart cannot stand the overwhelm, surely this is nigh. Now the phenomena ebbs into a natural state of whispered allure, and for how long I stared I do not know, I have lost some time here. Yet moved as I was to tears and mystery and photographs, I stirred for none, but let the splendid while fade and startling vision come gently to passing without mean intervention, and so infinitely and truly immortalised the experience, within the din of human memory.
113: The striking architecture of this mornings atmosphere
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