... and then, a few minutes later, the sky was pale pink and grey (the same kind of colors as Moth's fur, really), and then turned paler grey and clear blue for the rest of the day, with darker stripes of thick grey and indigo towards sunset. However did Ruskin manage to write about skies so vividly and bring them into one's mind's eye? I can't imagine what he'd have come up with faced with the extravagant varieties that we get in New Mexico.
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