Stopped at the light.

To my left; a grass bank, cherry trees working their way through a spring bloom. The bank is raised, the grass higher than my wing-mirror, but the glass of the mirror is tilted slightly, up (or upward tilted, slight...) It means when I glance in the mirror I see the full spatial weight of the trees reflected, hot spring sky, free from the ground they stand on. But the bank of grass extends behind, beyond the mirror. Do you understand? The mirror looks like a cavern of trees under the grass. The grass is there, wrapping itself around the edges of the pane, but the mirror itself is filled with cherry trees. The world is reversed, briefly, at the light. Things that grow on the surface of the world grow, briefly, in their own worlds underground.

And then, of course, we move.