Northern Lights. Tim O’Brien
But when he examined the pictures and puzzled over the problem, the differences jumped out, the mirrors reflected back and forth over time in a dazzling series of contradictions.
‘The trees will be turning,’ he observed.
‘Look closer,’ Addie said. ‘They are changing.’
‘Not much. In a week you’ll see something.’
‘I already see it. Look close.’
‘Where the devil is Harvey?’
‘He’ll be along. Don’t be silly, stop worrying about it.’
‘I just asked where he was.’
‘He’ll be along soon. Do you see what I was saying about the leaves?’
‘Yes, I see. I saw it before.’
She was tall. He was glad they were lying on the beach. Long brown muscles ran up her thighs. The calves were long and all bone.
The trees above them were elm and sweet maple. Across the lake it was all pine.
‘Are you taking Grace on a vacation this winter?’
‘I guess so. I don’t know. She’s been talking about Iowa. I guess she wants to go down.’
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