Cold, cold tiding.

I have always thought that the human heart is a little like the ocean, subject to tides, that joy rises in it in a steady flow, singing of waves, good fortune, and bliss; but afterward, when the high sea withdraws, it leaves an utter desolation in our sight. So it was with me that day.

-- Gabrielle Roy, "The Move"
The Road Past Altamont (1966)


My camera made it to Flushing, presumably safely. One step down.