Above 70°, silence and colors will take an expression of their own. Time has a different pace, nothing is sudden. The lack of relief, the absence of trees lets one see everything coming, like a fatality. Land is frozen so hard that it wont give or take back.
It is perhaps for this reason that the souls, dancing in the sunlight, paint long lasting sunsets or wander with the wind over the ice fields.
Silence is not empty, everything is present. All has left a trace, but as peacefulness surrounds us now, sounds have became unnecessary. Even when life has deserted the envelopes, all will inevitably remain like immobile testimonials; like open books for the journey man.