Strange beauty
Jan 22nd, 2012 | By Ian Poulton | Category: SpiritualityBeauty is a strange thing, it can allow a moment of escape from horror and ugliness. In one of the most profound books I ever read, the space of a single page in five hundred put the other four hundred and ninety-nine into a different context:
The hedgerows were deep and ragged where he walked, covered with the lace of cow parsley. The air had a feeling of purity as though it had never been breathed; it was just starting to be cool with the first breeze of the evening.
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