Stepping outside under clear skies with all the stars staring down and no moon in sight. The dogs are quiet and calm companions, the sheep a silent audience. The crunch of my footsteps on frozen grass is the only sound I hear. Looking up I can almost see the curve of the black ink sky. I could stare at it for hours, all those tiny points of light.

Not another soul in the world exists besides my companions and I, gentle souls alone in silence.