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Last hours in Istanbul
The first proper sunset in ninety days of snow and grey and now a city which looked always to its past flamed with the passion of the present. Colour flashed everywhere: the Bosporus a bottle-green, the sky streaked with crimson and the severe Byzantine battlements tinted a surreal orange by an onslaught of natural light →
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Morocco, in Brazil
Unzipping the tent flaps the dune appeared closer and taller than when seen in daylight, like something threatening using darkness as cover for stealth. There was the silhouette of a tree. A few stars. I was in Brazil, the trees dripping with the morning’s downpour. But the words “remote desert” in a news article had →
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faroverthewater. 