A photo I took during a very melancholy time, in just about my favorite place one earth. The text for this is based on a much longer quote by C.S. Lewis from "Out of the Silent Planet" (one of my very favorite books). I chose it because there are a lot of sad and wonderful memories attached to both the place this picture was taken, and to the book itself.
"A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmān, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing. The séroni could say it better than I say it now. Not better than I could say it in a poem. What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure, as the crah is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then–that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it."