Travel Diary: At Dawn On the Road In Autumn
Прочитайте цю статтю вголос
Увімкніть мікрофон і читайте у своєму темпі. Слова підсвічуються на ходу, і ніхто не зупиняє вас через одну помилку.
Ваш звук не потрапляє до MovaReader: розпізнає його ваш браузер. Політикою конфіденційності
Увійдіть, щоб ця сесія збереглася в історії читання.
Travel Diary: At Dawn On the Road In Autumn
Friday, 12 October
I left home at five thirty this morning because the drive to the coast takes four hours. On Friday traffic is lighter at six on the motorway than at eight. In autumn fog often sits on the fields at dawn near the bridge outside our town.
I stopped for coffee at seven at a service station on the main road. On long trips I always pause at that hour before hunger arrives at nine. In the shop I bought fruit and water for the rest of the day at the counter near the door.
At nine thirty I reached the hills where leaves turn gold in October light. On the viewpoint path tourists take photos at ten when sun breaks through cloud. In the valley below a river shines at midday like a silver line between trees.