Sun day

The forest was bathed in radiant sun light, a last burst of lustrous luminescence of the waning old sun; tomorrow the new will be born and the cycle will begin again. Low in the sky, hugging the horizon and pale, the old sun shone with a soft orange glow that illuminated the land and giving the place a comfortable feel; a stark contrast to the hard frost still evident on and in the ground. Water escaping from the ground had hardened on contact with the air, more water emerged to cover the former and then froze itself, this cycle continued until layered cascades of frigid glaze had formed over the hillside; tough and impenetrable, glistening amongst the long shadows of trees in low light. The forest has really shut down now, little moves through the land, ponies of course still meander, searching for unfrozen tufts around the heathers and gorse, the occasional bird can be heard to sing, but scarcely anything else stirs. The Celtic calender contains 5 dead days; these are they. Soon the wheel of the world, of the seasons, of life, will turn and the cycle begin a new. For now though peace has dominion.