Stone Circle It sounds wonderful

By the time the early morning has rolled around, she's already been up half the night and isn't as tired as one might expect. Phyllis had spent some of the evening getting acquainted with the territory, although it was a moot point considering it was so dark and her senses had started to dull (a fact she refused to admit to anyone and loathed about herself); but when morning broke and the winter sun peeked through a corner of the clouds, she felt much better. Phyllis watched the sun climb from the horizon's edge, herself roosted in the crux of a few trees on the hillside. The trees afforded some cover from the elements but gave her a nice view from a ridge. The sun went up very slowly, and the sky changed colors in the subtle, diluted manner that was common for the season. Through it all she was more interested in the thoughts within her head - her plots, her schemes - but to anyone watching, she was basking in the glory of the morning light.