This was yesterday afternoon, I thought I should perhaps paste it here too.
I just returned from a most splendid walk. The air was cold and fresh, but not aggressively so, it filled me with vitality without making me shiver at her harsh hand. The Rhine, as always, was a sight to behold. His waters moved and splashed as gently as gracefully in the shine of the lanterns. Once a boat pulled its body through his waters, in the process stirring up the latter and causing the reflections of the lights on the other side to distort and to deform as the ripples kneaded them through and the waves moved like shadows over his dark surface. And yet, for once my sight was diverted from this spectacle as I turned eastwards where upstream the full moon hovered in the nightly sky. His light too was mirrored on the Rhine's flow, but so more differently than that of those bulbs frying electricity. Theirs appears more like the flame of a candle, stretching lengthily down the width of the river, wavering in the water and radiating warmth; but that of the moon! Dispersed loosely across the surface it had a cold air to it, looking as though silver dust was being scattered in the darkness, and on the ever-moving waves it seemed like a silent rainfall in which drop by drop trickled onto the liquid to flicker for a moment just long enough for the eye to be flattered by its beauty. Truly it was a fascinating sight, and while this play was so more subtle and bleach, at the same time it was so much more mesmerising than the in comparison almost obscene shine of the windows and lampposts, managing to draw me into its play of light so unrefined yet all the more amazing.
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