En perfekt morgen i Leiman. Sola stod akkurat passe høyt og lyste gjennom en akkurat passe tykk morgendis inn i en akkurat passe mørk skog hvor det hadde vært akkurat passe kaldt om natta til at det lå akkurat passe mye rim på kanten av løvet.
|
|
A perfect morning in Leiman. The sun shining into the forest at exactly the right angle through a morning mist with exactly the right density after a night with exactly the right temperature to make every leaf on every tree be lined by small crystals of ice. |
![[<< First]](../arlesimages/tsign_purple_first.gif){kind=small}
![[< Previous]](../arlesimages/tsign_purple_previous.gif){kind=small}
![[Next >]](../arlesimages/tsign_purple_next.gif){kind=small}
![[Last >>]](../arlesimages/tsign_purple_last.gif){kind=small}
