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Winter Solstice Standing on the veranda of my 12th floor residence at the corner of Musashino Plain, I watch a line of dark cloud over the rising sun, the gray reflection of buildings standing close together all over, the scattered green, the cars flowing silently on the overpass of the highway right beneath my eyes; in the sky from south to west, no clouds, beyond the ridgeline of Tanzawa Hills at south west Mr. Fuji in whiteness rising. Stiff cold air covering the veranda. This early morning, from dark suppression to bright liberation the time moves sharply. The sun keeps rising brightly. Pouring hot coffee into a cup, I celebrate a beautiful morning after long silence.
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