Tall, stong trees which sway gently in the morning breeze.
The sun which struggles to thaw the frozen forest floor.
The ominous morning fog which adds a mysterious flavour.
The clear blue sky which the emergent trees seemingly scrape.
The twinkle of the icy frost which turns the lower of the forest a sparkly white.
Icicles dangling from branches, glistening wet and moist.
The birds that have stayed north sing their morning melodies.
They preach peace over chaos, and love over hate.
The forest is alive, the forest is serene,
The forest is a beautiful, lovely, and pristine.