The lights along the water

Seven minutes on a wooded hill above the city, while the lamps came on and the sky gave up its last grey.

From the top of the hill the city is one lit edge between black woods and a pale strip of water. By four in the afternoon the lamps were already on in rows, but the sky still held enough light to show the ridge on the far side.

Nothing happened in those seven minutes except that the balance changed. The water went from grey to blue, the far shore lost its hills, and the lights took over the picture one street at a time.

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