The tree stands, its branches gnarled and twisted and folding in upon themselves. It has long since shed a bright tapestry of greens and oranges and yellows, ever-changing with the passing of time and seasons, and the soothing touch of the snow has abandoned its roots, leaving the soil thirsty and chapped, so hard that one’s foot scarcely leaves a mark as he stands to observe the vast expanse of valley before him, and the brilliance of the candle-lit night sky; the stars swirling, dipping, churning together for one last night of joy and togetherness before the rising of the sun will wash them away like shallow waves from the seashore. They are scarcely but shavings of an over-used eraser, exhausted from the drafting of the universe as it is, creating and destroying, creating and destroying, lit aflame by the anguish of dying things and the anguish of living things and the anguish of whatever fleeting wisps of spirits that lie between. Somewhere far beneath the tree’s dreary, grey perch that was once a grand throne, the rooftops and steeples of some unnamed town peek out just far enough above the copse of dense forestry to watch the spectacular workings of the sky, rooted to the same dry, lifeless soil by their ancient foundations. As the moon cannot hope to wander any further beyond where its light touches the ground, these homes and churches and storefronts cannot hope to lift from their own imprisonments, never hope to touch the sky and feel as their windows crack and bust open, their doors loosen from their hinges, their bricks and stones chip off and fall away, nothing more than a vestige what little they used to be and how far they have come. Alas, this valley remains, lifeless and haunted and hopeful, yearning for the past but starving for what the future is to bring, with nothing more to do but remain ensnared by the weight of the world and watch as the stars swim in dizzying circles high above. And thus the sun rises, its rays devouring the lingering remains of the dark, enchanted evening, and bringing light to a lightless land.