Rome, on the train heading to Naples, early morning

The sun rises salmon pink over the humps of hills; towns and villages run past; stations lay supine and passive, unpopulated in the early morning shadows. Slipping darkly through long black tunnels. Olive trees cascade in a hazy dust of silver green, jostling for air in the dusty breath of morning. Fields of maize huddle together in the 8 o’clock sunrise, blankets of green eared wizardry, olive trees and vines.

This entry was published on September 13, 2012 at 8:21 pm. It’s filed under Travel and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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