winter static that ethereal giant clothed by cotton and the backlight of a billion falling stars frozen with the depth of its slumber. coating the ground with a white fur; melting mink as the giant turns his back and the wind blows in the gray, the midnight purple. halogens flash the milky ice, turning it crystal and ruby the ground littered with sky fire and the night a heaven of dancing shadow. this place is a witching hour for the mind. a harsh sedative for excitement like handing baking chocolate to a child.