rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Nocturnal Tumult

Wind makes the pines howl and shout. The stars remain obscured. The wind is layered. At the ground, the air barely stirs, and the last week's fallen mulberry leaves lie still. I stand clear of the house and the sheltering growth, and cold gusts ruffle my hair and chill my face. It is not an unpleasant cold. A few feet higher than my head, the tops of the taller evergreen shrubs frequently rustle and chatter, even when I feel only the slightest brush of air on my cheek. Higher still, the pine branches sing constantly, and the tops of the trees, dimly silhouetted against the eastern sky's growing paleness, wave and bow, gesticulating like an enraptured choir. But even the tallest of the leafless oaks stand mute, a mere quivering of their bony twigs the only response to the surging waves of ecstatic air. I wait to see what strew of brown needles upon the ground dawn exposes, and how the pines glow a more tender green by their rough removal.
Subscribe

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Seven

    It took quite a while to get to sleep Monday morning, but it was still overcast, so the light leaking around and through the blinds wasn't too bad.…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Six

    The rain was long delayed Sunday, clouds forming only gradually in the afternoon sky, and the first drops falling as dusk arrived. It has been mostly…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Five

    Days seem shorter once they are over than they do when they lie ahead. When I woke up Saturday afternoon there were at least three hours o daylight…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments