Just when I wonder if I'll stop seeing new, if the well really won't run dry someday, there's something fresh to see, unremarked, untold before. Look W-SW nearing Orange Station and see the first ridge of the Watchungs unfurl and roll before you. Look, up ahead, up high, over the houses and wires, below the sky, in that intermediate space. Prosaically, promiscuously breathtaking.
You think, how can that be?
How is it I haven't seen them before in that way, in that light, from that angle.
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