In the navy blue of just dark, the headlights illuminate only a few feet in front of the car. The high beams give shadows to the rocks on the road directly in front of the tires in outlandish proportion to their size, but the hundred-foot pines on the other side of the ditch remain invisible. Behind me, the full moon is but a promise, not even a tease of her liquid silver light yet spilling over the horizon.
Kathy Bradley - Crossing against the light
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