From the Proterii Kniga

The iron grip of winter in its soft glove of snow closes around the Shadow Mountains. This is the true season of the region, when the landscape seems most at ease with itself. Against the perfect white of snow the dark branches of the Frost Apples stand like burnt orchards with their bounty of burgundy fruit. Amid these groves the Umpyir often come to dance in the moonlight or feast on sunny days when the light is harsh like diamonds aflame.

The Top of My World

A Pointless Story
I would climb trees a lot years ago. I suppose I still could if the impulse hit me. The last time I did was about four years ago. All the old skills in picking a route up a tree came back to me quite easily and I clambered from branch to branch without much trouble. Though I can no longer go quite as high as I did one time when I must have been 12.

I picked out a high tree on the southwest side of the property. It was hard to get up to the first branch of the tree, as it was at least ten feet off the ground. So I borrowed the stepladder from the garage. I thought this would be an excellent tree both because of the nice stagger of the branches and its size.

I remember having some trouble about 2/3 of the way up. There the branches turn tangled and I had squirm around and go back down to try the other side of the tree. I did have to break a dead branch to get past this bit. But I got past and suddenly I was there above all the rest of the trees. It felt like to scene in The Hobbit when Bilbo climbed up the tree in Mirkwood. Suddenly I was up in a whole different world. But instead of an endless sea of trees I was slowly swaying in a world bounded by snow capped mountains under a dark blue sky.