The ground rumbling, the writhing branches trying to hold on to their scurrying leaves.
You could see it-
The yellows and oranges relenting to the indigo and gray, the birds retreating to their comfort.
You could feel it-
the rumbling of the Earth, the wind entering through the cracked window from the runaway branch.
The Blackwind began spinning through the sky- twisting and turning, emulating a vacuum cleaner. Night lived within the revolving snare leaving a void in its wake. Washed brand new like an open canvas the once inhabitable surroundings relied on time to create it anew once more.