Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist

Bright Phoebus

A storm passed through last night. The new front gate- a huge metal thing- the sort of gate farmers use for field openings- was swinging about- I heard it clang- so I got out of bed (this was about half past midnight) and tied it in place.

This morning the sun is getting through.

My favourite passage in the BBC's new Dracula (which I was watching yesterday afternoon) is the scene where the Count has hoiked the dying Harker up to one of the turrets of his castle and is saying, "There is one thing you can do for me; you can tell me what she looks like..." and this goes on for a while and you wonder who he's talking about until you realise that Harker is lying in the red-gold light of the sunrise and Dracula is crouching in shadow- and the "she" in question isn't some old lover but the sun- which he hasn't been able to look at for hundreds of years.
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