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“The wide sky overhead can seem like an element we're deeply submerged in, one that overflows the mountains rimming the horizon as if these were the walls of an extinct volcano's vast crater, inside of which has arisen a city... The night sky, sponging up light from the city below, is blackish phosphorescence, in which low clouds drift like mesoglea. When the moon is out in late afternoon it looms low over streets and buildings, enormous and pale yellow in the softer blue sky, like a ghostly school bus coming right at us.” — Francisco Goldman
The wide sky overhead can seem like an element we're deeply submerged in, one that overflows the mountains rimming the horizon as if these were the walls of an extinct volcano's vast crater, inside of which has arisen a city... The night sky, sponging up light from the city below, is blackish phosphorescence, in which low clouds drift like mesoglea. When the moon is out in late afternoon it looms low over streets and buildings, enormous and pale yellow in the softer blue sky, like a ghostly school bus coming right at us.