The ice is flat as a blade and slices through the horizon from end to end and melds the abyssal blue of the sky with the reflected darkness of itself. When the lights of the town douse and the occupants fall into their beds you can watch this distant flat and wait for gold points of light to glimmer into existence. Some say they are the spirits of a warmer world long before this frozen core. Others say they are orbs of gas reflecting the delayed light of the town back at us. Others still say that they are eyes of unseen beasts prowling the perimeter of civilization. All are wrong and each is right. It is the power of belief that keeps alive the mystery and legend of the golden sprites.
Paddy Dobson
17th May 2021