It was called an Indonesian Sunset.

People watched from a park bench in Hyde Park, London.

It was called a Sudanese Sunrise.

Viewed from the twentieth floor of an apartment building in Philadelphia.

Cheddar Cheese, but it came from an ocean away from the Cheddar Gorge or the Cheddar chasms.

Authentic.

Pure copper carries the message.

The signal may or may not be the story.

The mineral content sets the tone.

Grown on the eastern slopes of dreams, our wine has been called an elixir.

Perhaps just a taste.

We imagine the shade of a shack.

They served iced root beer, ouzo and grappa.

Water? Yes, but it comes with a “real” drink.

It was ok when this was a thing said in mountain villages.

However, most detrimental when used as bravado by city gauchos meeting in chintzy cocktail bars after work, by the lake of the bankers.

Two steps into fresh air, a cactus, and a mesquite bush.

We imagine more, and with greater accuracy than we see today.

Towels are drying, cushion plumped and faces gleam.

Three apples and a policy.

Truffle on, crazy winner.

Be Soothed.

The trees, lampposts, litter bins and traffic signals.

Crossings and lanes.

Design.

Engine sounds.

Music, rhythm, and melody.

Balm of the city.