Nighfall comes laden with sweet smell of lavender, and the far-flung azure echoes its soulful intent. Wondrous, translucent stars pour out argent lambency onto a lake unclouded by ponderance and agitation. So begins this nocturnal benediction inviting us into a refuge of long-lasting calm, which now envelopes the vales.

The circling, sibilant sound of turtle doves hang in the air. Nightingales sing glorious hymns to the Evenstar, and to the queen of flowers: The Rose.

O this yearning…

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