16:50 — strings of peeled persimmons hanging to dry under the deep eaves of a traditional Korean hanok in late autumn, dozens of glowing orange fruits in long vertical rows, the low late-afternoon sun shining straight in under the roof so the persimmons glow almost translucent and cast long slanted shadows on the wooden floor and paper doors behind. A clear pale autumn sky, a few red maple leaves on the stone step. Warm, quiet, golden. Korean architecture, not Japanese or Chinese. No text, no letters.