A Snap Shot under the Full Moon
A storm has passed earlier, the landscape seems freshly scrub away from the grime of a harsh summer season. The dust finally settles as the rain like million tiny hands patting the dirt down. The daylight is devoured by the night and the sky is relit with the million of stars winking down on us from the heavens. The fullness of the moon casts a blanket eerie light across the meadow.
In the meadow, the trees stand tall over the postage stamp of clearance of tall grass. In the near distance, the creek can be heard burbling along. There is a lovely freshly washed laundry smell that wafts the senses. The many ferns sprinkled among the tall grass and the many palms of oversize shrubs glistening with a clear coat of rain-drops under the silver streaks of the moonlight. In the edges of the trees lurking in the shadows is a beautiful wolf, its gray coat of fur shimmering when for a second a ray of light licks against its body. Searching out into the meadow for its next meal, the wolfs eyes glisten in anticipation for what he might find. As though a grand hand of an artists took their brushes and minimally did streaks of paint to awake the scene with shades of gray, slight sliver of silver, and blackness to add to the spookiness of some lost Steven King scene from his horror tales. The only items missing are the evil hungry creatures, bloodied bodies, and a few head stones from some forsaken grave site. There is a soft breeze brushing against everything, stirring enough to sway into a beautiful rhythm.
Under the fullness of the moon, its ray of silver light cast special moments to admire and to be in awe. Only creatures of the night can claim the full moon as their night, a Predators night. So beware if you come across an open meadow and the sun has long disappeared and the only light is the fullness of the moon. In the shadows waits for your presence, ready to devour your soul.
A storm has passed earlier, the landscape seems freshly scrub away from the grime of a harsh summer season. The dust finally settles as the rain like million tiny hands patting the dirt down. The daylight is devoured by the night and the sky is relit with the million of stars winking down on us from the heavens. The fullness of the moon casts a blanket eerie light across the meadow.
In the meadow, the trees stand tall over the postage stamp of clearance of tall grass. In the near distance, the creek can be heard burbling along. There is a lovely freshly washed laundry smell that wafts the senses. The many ferns sprinkled among the tall grass and the many palms of oversize shrubs glistening with a clear coat of rain-drops under the silver streaks of the moonlight. In the edges of the trees lurking in the shadows is a beautiful wolf, its gray coat of fur shimmering when for a second a ray of light licks against its body. Searching out into the meadow for its next meal, the wolfs eyes glisten in anticipation for what he might find. As though a grand hand of an artists took their brushes and minimally did streaks of paint to awake the scene with shades of gray, slight sliver of silver, and blackness to add to the spookiness of some lost Steven King scene from his horror tales. The only items missing are the evil hungry creatures, bloodied bodies, and a few head stones from some forsaken grave site. There is a soft breeze brushing against everything, stirring enough to sway into a beautiful rhythm.
Under the fullness of the moon, its ray of silver light cast special moments to admire and to be in awe. Only creatures of the night can claim the full moon as their night, a Predators night. So beware if you come across an open meadow and the sun has long disappeared and the only light is the fullness of the moon. In the shadows waits for your presence, ready to devour your soul.