All of a sudden, it is dizzyingly, perfectly possible that we are not witnessing a presentiment of the future or a recollection of the past but a total dissolution of distinctions of time ... for the beat of a threshold, it is the living year 1920, and the living year, say, 1965, and both are equally true.

--this is, I feel, our best way to understand eternity. It sounds like the film did it beautifully. I love how you describe the film's portrayal of summer, too: languorous, timeless, "a milk-haze of light so thick and heady, it seems always on the verge of gathering to a storm." Beautiful.