The skies were bright and clear in the town of Borgosesia, and about 4pm I decided to go to visit my friend who lives near Novara, a town about an hour south from us in Piemonte. As I headed down the
autostrada, I kept looking for a place to stop for a photo of a magnificent, florescent orange sun that was sinking below the tree line.
I stopped at the first break in the trees but was too late for the sunset though you can see a small bit of it peeking through the branches. I then turned and noticed ...
...the photos I took of the right side of the road...
...were nothing like those on the left side.
Then two minutes further down the road, I ran across that thin line that separates good weather from bad and everything became ghostly shapes looming up along the side of the road.
When I left her house later that night, just as I was reaching the same parking spot as before, I emerged from my thin cotton wool cover to see a slice of a moon along with his starry pals, winking at me from above.
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