He regarded the world-objects right in front of his face-as if from a great distance. For when he moved on the earth he also moved in other realms. In certain seasons, in certain shades, memories alighted on him like sharp-taloned birds: a head turning in the foliage, lantern light flaring in a room.
Amanda Coplin (2012). “The Orchardist: A Novel”, p.5, Harper Collins