An oily sheen of light flowing out from an almost full moon. Twisted and turned leaves in the orange street lights. Like fire burning up, burning the leaves. Spiralling flickers like sparks from a bonfire. Ice and fire, light and burning embers. Do you reach down and touch the world? Sputtering and guttering your cold glow submerges the heat. Ice spikes fall and pierce the ground. Describe to me what you see. Says the moon….