Images of the mind

A bit later, and in a different train. The lights are brighter but again less than a handful of passengers. The sky is turning a deep, rich blue. Like you have the blue hour in the evening, there's also a blue hour in the morning. A time laden with photographic opportunities.

Trees, pylons, and roof lines draw dark, spiky, edgy, jagged line across the horizon. A small lake is the spitting image of the sky. I'm wondering which reflects what: the lake the sky, or the sky the lake. Impossible to tell the difference between these twins.

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