Grassy cliff a'callin', green, it's kept up by some 
people brave and wily both. Apparently no fear of fallin' 
halts them when they are clearing off the overgrowth. In 
summer it is somethin', and boys'll take their boys there 
in the dead of night, in July or maybe a month in, and 
little girls will go there just to fly a kite. Late last 
August a girl on Skidmore went to the cliff but forgot 
her glasses. She couldn't see the trains at all, and 
though a voice at her side described the scene, detailing 
it all quite clearly, it didn't satisfy. She'd rather 
have had her good eye there, her zoom lens (as a 
binocular). Two Crowns went over looking; they went over 
to the overlook to look over. Below them there was was 
nothing cooking but locomotives paused within a muggy 
blur. The Skidmore girl could have told them, 'There's 
not so much to see under a cloudless sky...though my 
camera prefers this to darkness.' She opened up the 
shutter so the Crowns could cry. It was the night when 
the girl on Skidmore went to the cliff for an eighteenth 
picture. She couldn't see the trains at all, and though 
those men at her side described the scene, detailing it 
all quite humbly, their voice a muffled moan  she'd 
rather have had her good eye there, her zoom lens (as a 
binocular).