A deep, timeless pool of still water. Horsemen pass by.
First, a group of out-riders, dusty and blackened. They pause to look, and there's no reflection. Silence as time passes in a green valley.
The second riders. Novices rub shoulder with the experienced in the warmth of a sinking sun. One man looks up as he passes the pool and waves.
The final rider, a flaxen haired boy seated on the mount lead by his mother. He smiles, absorbed in the passing of time.
Iceland.
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