Bilberry bliss
The red hills of the Troll Peninsula, ablaze with bilberry bushes. Their leaves have turned a fiery red, and the dark berries are crusted with ice after the frost. I stand in a sea of red, among the bushes. The hills rising and falling around me like waves of the crimson ocean. The sheep trails have carved intricate patterns into the hillside, and I dive in, searching for the dark pearls of berries.
I feel as if I have entered a realm of fairies, a world of hue, where the passage of time is only counted by how deep purple my tongue has turned.
