Night descends, striking luminosity from the landscape. It brings with it boats, small rowboats that rock gently on the near-still water. Ripples play out a scene, of stars twinkling in and out of view, winking away forever behind the hills that are clouds. Outside this dreamscape is a room, dusty and dark. It is the place for cobwebs, old cedar trunks and black and white photo albums.
Text by Lucie MacAulay
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