I forgot I’d taken this picture. I was on my way home from Hemingway’s late last Tuesday, where we had toasted to Dickens on his 200th birthday. The moon was full, breaking through the heavy clouds that have become a feature of this mild summer.
The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else.
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities