The moon, ever watchful, shines as a beacon from above; clearly lighting the upper strata of the overcast dawn with its ever-watchful eyes.
The tendrils of golden light creep across the underside of the clouds to change the forest green of the nighttime maple leaves into the bright green of their daytime shading.
The bats swoop to catch their final morsels of the morn before retiring through the inky blackness of the missing window in the barn they call home.
Daylight is upon us; the morning has risen.
The tendrils of golden light creep across the underside of the clouds to change the forest green of the nighttime maple leaves into the bright green of their daytime shading.
The bats swoop to catch their final morsels of the morn before retiring through the inky blackness of the missing window in the barn they call home.
Daylight is upon us; the morning has risen.
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