Pale Fire / September 4, 2017 by Nathan Jones View fullsize View fullsize View fullsize View fullsize View fullsize View fullsize View fullsize “I was the shadow of the waxwing slainBy the false azure in the windowpane;I was the smudge of ashen fluff – and ILived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.” — Vladimir Nabokov (Pale Fire, Canto One)