Grey grass rolled out like a rumpled carpet. A moon on the horizon in a misty halo.
Frost in the grass, like distillations of the moon painted on the blades.
A window. A chair from a dying man's house brought to this place. Wood on mat.
With careful positioning it is possible to create a view that gives an impression of endless trees.
That tall fir. It looks like a witch dancing in the wind that rolls like brushes on the roof, windscreen – mesmerising like a car-wash.
This half bottle of sweet wine. Why?
Magic. That's what we crave.
Something that acts like a filter
between what everyone else sees.
Yellow, red, green.
Misty halos around