Winter. Quiet, still, spacious, cold, sometimes dark and sometimes so bright you have to close your eyes against it because it’s too much.
Dexter stands behind the lilac bushes, blending in with the colors of winter. The branches are bare and gray, some with tight honey colored buds at their tips, and some still holding golden brown clusters of dried seed pods. The ground is covered in dirt, mulch, and dead leaves in various shades of color ranging from brown to black, some dry as dust and others wet and slimy. The fence behind him is faded and weathered but still standing, just like him.