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     I learned about its gifts one July evening in the mountains. My car had mysteriously stalled, and I was stranded and alone. The sun had set, and I was watching what seemed to be the bright-orange glow of a forest fire beyond a ridge to the east. Suddenly, the ridge itself seemed to burst into flames. Then, the rising moon, huge, red and grotesquely misshapen by the dust and sweat of the summer air, loomed up out of the woods. >>阅读更多