Hallows



Looking up through bare branches into a clouded Winter sky; all the leaves have fallen upon me, warming my never-ending watch beside the woods. My roots are buried deep within the rocky ground. Standing, lonely on the edge of desolate fells, I am sentinel to nothing. Stone embraced in thorn, I am earthfast here. The woods sing a sadful song, that touches even my Winter-chilled heart. The far off thunder rumbles low across the moors, foretelling more rain to come. The storms never end, here on the edge of reality, scouring the heather and the peat, battering Winter-bared oaks.

All is Hallows, and the world awaits the turning with indrawn breath.
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