Not sure which is laying claim, Iron Maiden playing in the night or S.T. Coleridge, "the ice did spit with a thunder fit; the helmsman steered us through"..."tracks of shining white, and when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes."
Much the same here tonight as out of the norwest it blows almost on cue as the sun slipped off south of the equator. But what night skies!
All said Seamus, your spirit conversion to black and white calls to mind the old engravings that chorused his words with such dark beauty. Lovely,
Patricia