Ebony skies lighten and blush to grow fiery red over night-dreaming hills. The dark, ragged clusters of gossipping trees appear on the ridges and emerge from the seas of the moon-coloured mists in the valleys. Black hills will soon be sunkissed green. The honey of birdsong will soon be released by the great, golden traveller on his daily run. Lets welcome him back. Lets welcome the sun.