dead of night.
a blue glow lights up the room.
everywhere is empty.
moon beams push through a thin layer of clouds.
a thin layer of almost imperceptible mist covers the land.
the ocean crashes against the shoreline,
foam appears for a second like shining pearls in the darkness, before slipping back under the surface
hills become shadows, wrapping themselves in black cloaks, sheltering from the cold.
further away, fields of dry green now damp to the touch,
wet, and cold — the moon reflects light, not warmth.