Nancy Merrill is asking for a picture on the horizon. I guess that could include sunrise, sunset, city skyline, or a roof. In this case, it’s simply the skyline of the road on which we were traveling — Route 201 northbound to Skowhegan, Maine.
It was September, the beginning of Autumn in Maine. And with each mile northward we drove, the more autumnal the scenery became. It isn’t just the latitude. It’s also the altitude. As we drove north, we were also driving up into the mountains.
Looking down the canal, the horizon lurks about the tops of the boats, the docks, the buildings that line the waterway. The horizon is implied, not entirely visible … but you know where it is. Everything points to it.
Nowhere can one see the pure horizon more than on the sea. Twilight, just before sunset, from Barnstable beach. The boats sit peacefully at anchor as the light fades beautifully from the sky. The horizon goes on forever.
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