I ran across this passage from Joseph Conrad's YOUTH the other day:

Nothing moved. The fronds of palms stood still against the sky. Not a branch stirred along the shore, and the brown roofs of hidden houses peeped through the green foliage, through the big leaves that hung shining and still like leaves forged of heavy metal. This was the East of the ancient navigators, so old, so mysterious, resplendent and somber, living and unchanged full of danger and promise. I see it now – the wide sweep of the bay, the glittering sands, the wealth of green infinite and varied, the sea blue like the sea of a dream.

It doesn't look like that from my back porch here in Maine. Maybe I should check out the view from the front door!

Cheerily,
Charley Noble