Stephen King. Under the dome (№ 447869)

The reddish moon finally breaks through the mud on the east side of the Dome and bathes everything in bloody light. It's the end of October, and in Chester's Mill October is the most heartless month, mixing memory with desire. There are no flowers on this dead earth. No flowers, no trees, no grass. The moon looks at utter devastation, because there is practically nothing else to look at.