Pink Silhouette

From the top of the hill by the tobacco barn out back you get a beautiful view of our little village as the sun goes down.

What I have never understood is why the sky to the East so often is what looks pink, not the sky to the West. There is some kind of reflection going on, I suppose.

The landscape appears dark and jagged, like the black paper cutouts they used to make portraits from in the old days.

Time for turkey soup and a hot bath!

Maia is already in bed, waiting for us to come up.

Goodnight, Blippers. Sleep well.