Arafed woman in a purple dress sitting in a field

Blonde; Her skin glows golden in the commingled light, flawless save for a few faint laughter lines at the corners of her twinkling emerald eyes. Intricate braids in hues of fiery dawn and dusky twilight frame her delicately sculpted face. They twist and tumble down her back in a rich auburn cascade, glinting with hints of precious metals that shift from pink to orange. Her diaphanous gown, its layers drifting lazily in the breeze, reflects the sky at this magical crossroads – brilliant crimson melting into purple fading to deepest blue. One slender hand is outstretched as though conducting the silent symphony of this place, pulling light from horizon to horizon with delicate motions of her tapered fingers. Her expression of utter tranquility mirrors the serenity of this moment, infinite and unbounded. The sky surrounding her blends vibrant pastels into muted jewel tones, the divide between sunrise and sunset a seamless gradient sweeping overhead. Shadow and illumination mingle indistinguishably. The emerald greens of the meadow seem lit from within, glowing rather than illuminated by the celestial display. Delicate wildflowers punctuate the tall grass in vibrant bursts of magenta, violet, and gold. One ancient, sprawling oak provides delicate shade, the dark whorls and knots in its windswept boughs echoed in the woman’s intricately plaited tresses. There is no boundary line separating the realms of moon from sun, only an infinite spectrum encompassing her seated form. This is a place and time neither of night nor day but perfectly balanced between.