In November, on Vashon Island, the sun's arc is so low that sunrise and sunset last all day. I sit on a wide white porch and look out at the harbor, at two poplar trees burning orange in the westering light. A boat rocks at anchor, light glints off one window like a signal for something. But nothing much happens, save for a few ravens flying over, and a leaf or so blowing by . . .
Photos of Lavender Hill Farm and environs