A forest of tree trunks, standing tall, rise into the bluish-green mist. And vaguely wingéd things, like moths and butterflies, fill the air, while gentle electric currents dance, and the curtain covering their faerie world begins to break apart before our wondering eyes.
After I took this, I made inquiries about the building. It had been empty for at least fifteen years. So these two had been waiting for a very long time indeed.
And, of course, it really isn't about paint, wood, and hardware.