In the top of the sky it is cold, so cold that it may be hard like tempered steel, filled with stars. But the east sky begins to luster like gentle pedals of chinese bellflowers mysteriously. Under this daybreaking sky, in the area so high that no daybird could fly to, edged pieces of frost have been blown and flown away toward the south by the wind with a rustre. Really it's a so clear beggining of the day that a ginkgo tree on a hill can hear the fine rustre of the frost. Ginkgo fruits of the tree woke up all at once and palpitated.
Today is the day of starting on their journey.
They are thinking this ever and two crows comming last evening said this. But from the window he saw about ten brightened white lilies standing with full bloom in the light of one eighth second thunder, in the storm wind hard for breazing. Then in a moment the returned darkness vanished the dazzling flowers. Gadruf leaned from the window to gaze the faint shadow of swaying flowers, waiting the next thunder light. His posture made his flannel shirt being washed with the cold rain which was the last one left for him remainning not wetted.