At first it was just one pony with a cart, who brought tools and such to trade for apples. Then it was a team of ponies with carts, trading with a few other farms that had sprung up near the apple farm. Today, it is a trading post opening its doors for the first time.

I suppose there will be a town before too long, over on the other side of that creek. There are even ponies cutting down trees at the edge of the strange forest, where the trees are sparse, and aren’t quite so unusual.

As night falls, a light continues to shine from the upstairs window of the trading post. The windows go dark not long after the last traces of daylight have disappeared from the horizon. Even with the ponies so nearby, it is peaceful. I am far enough away that they seldom come my direction. Most don’t even bother to look my way.

The stars are shining crisp and strong. The sky seems happy.

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