How do you describe an unimaginable space? A place where you can yell all you like and

that yell will never come back to you because there is nothing for a voice to bounce off.

Why was it on my mind to describe such a place to you? Ah, I have it, to tell you about

the kind of sunset that happens just half an inch above the ice. Picture if you will, a sun

going down that is no longer yellow, it has, you’ll see, taken on the glow of a harvest

moon. Blue and white spears of cold fire crackle and flame across the ice, they splinter

and fragment then droop like moon-flowers, dripped in silver rain; rain that falls and

splashes against the unforgiving white before rising up in a defiant spark, like electric

butterflies. The sun falls with an incomparable beauty, setting the ice on fire with a final

burst of blue flame, until, finally, the ocean swallows it whole, everything is still. Gone.

And all that is left is me.

A place I visited many times when young.

Ah, but lassie, you do it justice. 🌸