In the space of two minutes.
7:47 p.m., Friday, facing east from the same point:
It was, in fact, the meeting of my two favorite kinds of landscape.
7:48 p.m. Friday, facing north:
And yet, somehow, it was still a deep, strong pleasure to hurtle backwards into the fens this evening. I am back, and tomorrow I suspect that I will tell you all about it. Tonight is for settling in.