Tuesday, December 27, 2011

six thousand miles

or thereabouts separated waking up in Wimbledon, and being home for dinner (and gin-and-orange, the oranges being picked and squeezed fresh off the tree) in Los Angeles.   And this evening scene could, really, be at either end of the spectrum.   All the same, given this morning's dull London sky, the perfect blue here surely gives away the location of the image.  I'm still shaking my head at how both ends can be so familiar, be so obviously Home - whether it's the crumbling stucco of all the West London semis that we passed in the cab this morning, or the camelias and oleanders lining the front gardens here.  And it's the same very young moon in both places, too.

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