« Turning, tur­ning, tur­ning. Maybe we should call it the hour of "tur­ning away." We build the city, dense, too dense, not dense enough, and put a little band of nature around the edges of the city. I wonder how it would be to weave "rib­bons" of nature through the city ins­tead of on the bor­ders. Was I the only one in Montreuil, or in Paris, who stood still for an hour wat­ching the tur­ning ? I won­de­red if I would see the " green flash " at the final moment of the sun’s disap­pea­rance, as I once did in Hawaii. Facing west, I thought about tur­ning "back­wards," away from the sun, while Maryland is expe­rien­cing the "middle" of the day. What if our rota­tion was 12 hours, or 48 hours, what would our life be like ? The clouds seemed to hold still, to turn with the earth. I was glad for the clouds, it would have been dif­fi­cult to look towards the sun directly. I am plea­sed to have spent an hour this way. »

Mark