The halo of the moon,
Is it not the scent of plum blossoms
Rising up to heaven?
Moonlight, reflected by the river, with birds conversing and a train crossing the iron bridge.
Street Light. The yellowish light of street lanterns, reflected by wet cobblestones. Clouds of cigarette smoke, the sound of footsteps nearby and car-horns in the distance.
Unscented beeswax candles nevertheless have a certain scent.
Firelight. Shadows dancing. TV for the stone age. Stare into the flickering shadows and create your own story.