Exxasens
Eleven Miles

Imagine walking aimlessly on a desolate land covered by a uniform snowy mantle on a crystal-clear yet freezing night. The white of the blanket stands out in the darkness while billions of stars, light-years away, silently observe every corner of the universe.

Winter has brought an extreme, piercing cold, and the snow covers everything; the night has only two colors: the white that covers everything, hiding even the green of the coniferous forests at the edges of this vast and cold place, and the black of the sky dotted with billions of stars made tiny by the distance and rarefied nebulae with icy colors made visible by the absence of artificial lights. Silence. Moments of calm are interrupted by a thunderous noise in the distance, transforming into the roar of the wind that rises more and more and overwhelms you, lifting not snowflakes but splinters sharp as swords that wound the face as you continue to walk to who knows where; then the calm returns, and the wind, and again the silence. And the starlight continues to illuminate from afar this desert of snow and ice.

These are Exxasens, icy Post Rock scattered in the depths of space, coming from an unknown constellation. Calm and roar living in symbiosis, like a freezing wind from another world that rages for a few minutes, freezing and overwhelming everything only to cease and make way for an otherworldly peace until the wind rises again.