[Poetry] may make us from time to time a little aware of the deeper unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
T.S.Eliot
Sunday, December 30, 2018
Catching the end of the year
Before moving north to Saronno and from there to Graz again, we wanted to give a last glance at the sun plunging into the sea.
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