The grin of the golden moon glows through the midnight mist. Fairy lights strung across a white wooden fence seem to hover in the darkness, suspended by threads of gossamer. The wind is still, but the lights still waver, like reflections on water at night. Soft humming drifts from an open window, though only shadows seem to hear its faint melody. The sky is silent and so are the trees. Only the lights sway softly; the rest is motionless as time pivots around the tiny orbs, each the center of its own universe in the endless night.