Horace Vernet paintings

Horace Vernet paintings
Irene Sheri paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
our years, though only the slight stoop of his shoulders and the pure silver of his crest showed his age.
The next night he told me about the southern migration, describing how a man of the Ansarac feels as the warm days of the northern summer begin to wane and shorten. All the work of harvest is done, the grain stored in airtight bins for next year, the slow-growing edible roots planted to winter through and be ready in the spring; the children are shooting up tall, active, increasingly restless and bored by life on the , more and more inclined to wander off and make friends with the neighbors' children. is sweet here but the same, always the same, and luxury love has lost its urgency. One night, a cloudy night with a chill in the air, your wife in bed next to you sighs and murmurs, "You know? I miss the city." And it comes back to you in a great wave of light and warmth—the crowds, the deep streets and high houses packed with people, the Year Tower high above it all—the arenas blazing with sunlight, the squares at night full of lantern lights and