The wind whistles through swinging leaves of the trees.
A single leaf falls from a tree.
Its grip loosened from branch, where is once swung.
It swoops down, caressing the air that carries it to the grass.
The grass is moist and cold.
Water droplets slide down the crevice of protruding blades of grass.
They burst through the cold ground.
The grass tears through the hard ground.
A stream flows nearby, the water tumbling over visible rocks.
Long grass on the edges of the stream lean towards downstream.
They reach for the water.
A blanket of fog sits above the trees.
Waiting for a breeze to carry it away.
The wind comes and tears the fog away.
Swooping it through the valley.
Bouncing off mountains and finally disappearing.
The day has come.