In the calm of morning darkness, when the stillness of winter whispers a hushed tone of quietude just before the first break of dawn, one’s perspective falls askew amidst the shadows and desolation of winter. Is that a rock or a dead bird, frozen in the stillness of winter’s despair? Was the movement behind the trees a reflection, or just the first faintness of dawn’s exposure? Perspectives are funny glazes; a once familiar landscape can be frighteningly unfamiliar within the dark chasms of one’s own mind. […]