The stillness was uncanny. Not a leaf stirred, the forest it seemed was stunned under a spell. Moments passed like hours as a dark, dense blanket far above the trees gathered. With a loud clap of thunder breaking the eerie silence, it split open and large drops hastened down the canopy in a deluge. A cataclysm between the sky and earth had begun.
The unending shower seeped in through the cracks in the soil, the soil that devoured the flowing stream. The sky sang its broken ballad, and the forest became its audience, soaking in the torrential symphony. The howling wind breathing laboriously made the leaves strain at the branches of the tall trees.
And then the dramatic performance of the sky began to slow down. The blanket of clouds began to thin to reveal the ink-blue expanse. The chaos of the storm was turning into a relentless pitter-patter, dripping from the leaves onto the wet soil and misty grass. Soon the midnight sky washed clean, displayed an array of heavenly constellations, twinkling enough to take one’s breath away.
Petrichor was heavy on the ground and the gleaming silver drops on the grass resembled stars from the sky that had descended to light up the woods. It was quiet again, but this time a peaceful quiet. A quiet that wouldn’t have been, but was-
when the sky turned ominous
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