At the line between day and night, the river pauses. Still, like glass and silver blue, it reflects a fairy tale.
The waters soften the yellow lights to gold, illuminating old stone buildings, which drop down into the watery valley, like giant steps.
At the foundations a church, with its upside-down spire pierces the dark waters below. A silver mist swirls round the pinnacle, like a flock of fairies glittering in the liquid sky. And in the blackest depths there are pinpricks of light, twinkling below it all.
Time passes over the line and the world in the water blurs.