Start to Finish
In the dark and still of the night, a silent yet peaceful haze of what had the feeling of immortality, engulfed the town. As if the seemingly infinite amount of moments that passed in the quiet all lasted forever. A cool gentle breeze swept through the houses which stood motionless. It was just enough to ruffle the leaves and give anypony without a coat on a shiver, but relatively make no sound. Although, nopony was ever out then, let alone awake. If anyone were to stumble upon a scene such as this, they would be left in a stooping awe and wouldn’t be able to utter a word. Yet like all things beautiful and precious, they are either short lived or no-one is there to experience them.
The sky above, without hesitation or sign, began to brighten. The start of this change is unexpected and once started, never stops. One can never truly see it take place. You see one shade of blue, you blink or turn, and it has become lighter. At first it was blue, then purple, pink, orange, then yellow. This genuine illusion happens in a matter of minutes. The clouds have mysteriously turned from a heavenly silver to meadow yellow. The sun peeks over the distant horizon and begins to barely lick the tops of the mountains that surround the small town in the valley. It then heads down the mountain side, like slow moving lava, glowing and burning.
The first thing in the town to catch a speck of the golden beams, is a spire of a looming castle comprised of purple and blue crystal, in the shape of a massive tree. It had accents of gold across the roofs and the balconies, and a single large, pink banner with the emblem of a multi-pointed star. Along parts of the underside where it seemed as branches procuring from the trunk, strands of crystals were hung; each a different color of the rainbow. In a state of utter majesty it stands stalwart.
As the sun continues its journey down the castle, more and more light is reflected and scattered to the houses below. The majority of these homes were traditional red timber framed houses with hay roof thatching. Simple and charming. They were built randomly next to one another, closer together towards the center of town and spreading out over the low rolling hills. Different sizes of trees were placed just as random. Flower patches were common. There was a single river that ran through part and on the edge of the town with a few small ponds and lakes in the surrounding area. The river flowed without irregularity or sound. In the center of the of the town was the largest building: the town hall. It was well above the height line of any other house and the red roof went wide then thin and up to a point; standing almost as a beacon. It was round with a wide patio on the first floor and a balcony just above. Colorful triangle banners hung from pole to the supports somehow symbolizing a constant joyous mood.
To the south of the town was an apple orchard that spanned farther than the average eye could see. In the middle of the trees stood a bright red barn. The wood was only partially worn indicating it being a recently built in the last few years. Around the barn were smaller structures, such a hen houses and storage sheds and near by, a large garden filled with different vegetables of the season. All over it had a quaint and pleasant look and at the sun’s sudden ascendance, a rooster is one of the first to break the persistent silence.
Others follow shortly. Birds have started to chat; darting about all in unique colors and species. Squirrels are running and hopping about; always as if in peril. Other animals can be seen too, but finally the town starts to stir. A smell of bread and cakes lofts from a corner bakery. Curtains, blinds, and windows are opened to allow the new light in. Doors open and ponies start to emerge wandering out in complete ignorance of the dramatic scene that had once filled their town, but fled due to the head on charge of the dawn.
They walk, trot, gallop, and run, to and from multiple places wherever they are concerned. Shops, cafes, and stores invite in customers, they do their business however they please and carry on. Some find purposeful action in their lives yet some have started to waste away inside; whether they show it or not. But the majority of the town presents a radiant, carefree, jubilant feeling, where anyone is welcomed. They talk to one another, conversing with pleasant tones and true intent in their responses.
The day carries on in such a manner where one can simply remember nothing but a constant hustle of moving bodies and only smudges of anything specific. Soon there are less bodies moving about. Finally process by which the day was created is reversed and continues to deconstruct it.
The sun in its magnificent glory has descended low in the sky and the clouds are various hue of gorgeous purples, oranges, and pinks. Long dark shadow are cast along the valley floor by the west mountains and stretch more and more by the minute. The town is soon encased in the shadow of the peaks and lights flicker on in the windows of the few who choose to extend the evening. Soon twilight is come then past. Stars start to appear every so gracefully and without notice. Just as the light of all the windows was eradicated, all the heavenly bodies were visible.
Almost as quickly as it had been chased away, it returned. That infinite moment capturing haze. At one point or another, it was just there; like magic. Time becomes irrelevant and peace become omnipotent. A night, then day, and night again, in the magical town of Ponyville.