The unicorns are gone, leaving a lullaby of pink mist in their wake, the residue of new birth energy.

The wind plays with the pine needles, and slowly a few fall softly to the ground.

The conception chemistry in the air has set fire to the day, as more pine needles fall. Little by little they change, extend and take on a new shape.

Fairies are being born, the sons and daughters of nature.

The transformed pine needles change colour, each different, pink, yellow, purple, green, blue and pure white.

They rise and, laughing, fly away.

But they will be back.