We had left the coach far behind, and had to wait till it overtook
us. Meanwhile I looked downhill into the valley below: it was a
veritable sea of slush. The teams that followed ours sank into it,
and seemed not to be moving at all. The oblique rays of the setting
sun, reflected and radiating in every direction, lent a peculiar
glitter to the slushy wagons and the broken sheet of mire, as if
pointing out their beauty to the darkening sky. So much light
wasted, I thought. But on the summit of the hill on which I was
standing, the direct rays of the sun promised a good hour more of
daylight.