A sombre conifer stands tall and proud behind the neighbours house, its needles and twigs behind the swiftly darkening grey sky doused with pure blackness. With it come to mind scenes of winter nights falling early and rising late, of New Year’s bleakness in weather and mind.
Soon the tree will fuse with its background, plunging into the ever-dark night sky, only to be pulled out by the first rays of light the morning after.