Freezing cold, almost dark, It's the middle of the day. No sound to be heard

Freezing cold, almost dark – It's the middle of the day. No sound to be heard, no movement to be seen.
 A lone tree stands frozen in the grip of time, its branches heavy with frost, bent by the relentless cold of winter. Around it, an endless white landscape spreads out – the snow lies untouched, like a blank page in a story where no footprints have left their mark.
 The sky glows gently in pastel hues, a silent echo of the sun that never quite rises above the horizon. The light of the dark is fleeting, a gentle embrace of pink and purple hues that reflect off the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
 It is midday, but the world rests in a dreamy semi-darkness. No wind breaks the silence, no birds fly over the plateau – only a deep, almost physical calm, a silence so total that it can almost be heard. Here, in the icy embrace of nature, time is frozen, and the landscape rests in an eternal state of waiting, until the sun one day returns.