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This reminds me of the poem: Dark hills at evening in the west, Where sunset hovers like a sound Of golden horns that sang to rest Old bones of warriors under ground, Far now from all the bannered ways Where flash the legions of the sun, You fade--as if the last of days Were fading, and all wars were done. Edwin Arlington Robinson This was in Northern California between Yosemite and San Fransisco, July 2009