Found Moments: Brian Doyle

On the liminal moments between day and night:
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“Midmorning, just as the last tendrils of sea fog melt off the meadow and are caught in the fingers of the firs.” (p. 217)

“The dusk deepens infinitesimally minute by minute, as if someone was adding grains of darkness to the bowl of brimming light on the field,” (p. 237)

“She watches the sun rise from the porch. It hints at itself first and then announces itself melodramatically and finally arrives brilliant and searing between two young pine trees like two green fingers pinching fire.” (p. 260 )

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