The air is still and the milky sky hangs heavy over the silent houses. The birds etched like tattoos on the grey clouds. Tonight a new moon will slit the sky with its tiny crescent, cutting the black with a pale glow as it begins its journey to transform from delicate sliver to full round light. But today the air is still, the land waiting, the cycle has not yet begun.
"Nature's music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions".- Mary Webb