The evening is filled with images of crowds circling the ancient post and lintel stone observatory, pressing flesh into flesh, heralding the summer sun at
Stonehenge. Here, on another continent, the chimes rock gently and dappled light flits across my window. The sun crested the Rockies this morning and came unannounced, unheralded, and yet it came and made its slow journey across the sky, and now warms my face as I watch it slowly make its descent into the horizon.
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