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Writing inspired by the following SWC prompt:
Describe the trees at dawn as the sun rises.
Morning Woods
by Natasa Pap
It’s still dark, but the sky is getting brighter. The night is slowly ending, which means I should go home soon. I finish eating the field mouse I caught a few hours earlier and take a moment to observe my surroundings.
It’s quiet. The trees are tall, thick and magnificent. Their trunks appear darker than usual, but the branches are still. The whole forest is covered in this dark blue tint that is getting brighter with each passing minute. The thick fog holds the forest in its pale, eerie grip. A gentle, yet cold breeze passes by. It softly rocks the yellowed leaves and separates a few, quite weak ones, from the branches. They land on the ground next to their brethren and wait to become fertilizer for the soil.
The branch I am standing on is thick and sturdy, and quite damp from last night’s rainstorm. Fortunately, I managed to keep my feathers dry, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to fly now. I spread my wings and flap them a few times, stretching them, warming them up before I take off. They make no sounds as always, which is quite useful when I go hunting.
A single drop of water falls on my beak. I shake my head and look up hastily, only to see an ocean of gold and brown wet leaves above me. Another drop falls, this time on my back. It’s cold touch makes my body shiver, and I decide it’s time to leave.
The wind carries me above the trees allowing me to witness the break of dawn. The blue tint covering the forest is slowly replaced by a warm, orange glow rising above the hills in the distance.
Below me, the forest starts echoing with the song of the blackbirds. Their rich, flute-like melody greets the sun as it showers the forest in its long, golden rays. The thick veil of fog is powerless against the light of a new day. It slowly thins and lowers itself into nothingness. The sky starts changing its colour as well. The cold, dark blue transmutes into a mix of bloody red, golden yellow and gentle violet.
The leaves below me take on multiple shades of brown, yellow and orange. The sun’s light spreads far and wide, stretching along the ground, through the trees, branches and bushes, signalling the beginning of a new day in the forest.
I land, soundlessly, on a branch of my favourite oak tree and retreat into the hole of its trunk. As I close my large eyes, the gentle sounds of a waking forest slowly lead me into slumber.