“Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind which are delivered down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn,” the text running beneath the dome read.
And as I spun beneath the circle of afternoon light, she began to play her violin and two boys carrying trumpets stepped onto the stage.
It was the end. Maybe not the very end, but 'an' end.
Every city has their ups and downs. The longer you visit, the more downs you start to notice.
Mahler's Resurrection Symphony
The salad bed in our garden
A connection revisited