From the memorial garden at Skypark.
The only way I might have captured a shot with colors other than green would have been lying on the ground. By that time, the rain had persisted for three days, the ground was saturated, and I was thoroughly finished with wet feet. My shoes did fine until the water was more than an inch deep, and then I remembered why I decided not to spend a winter on the island and write a book about it: because most people aren't up to reading much about cold feet and gray skies.
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