Wind Tag

I had left my RV awning extended for the night so even when sleeping I had a keen ear for the wind. In the early morning darkness, the wind did come up and my awning was making ominous creaking and flapping noises.  I got up at 5:30 am or so to go outside and see if the awning was holding its own. This is what I saw and heard.

Early morning velvet darkness silhouettes the tender canyon. 

Cold wind sweeps, rushes over the ridge of trees, swirls and stands, claims his ground.

Warm wind sighs in through the gap, announcing her presence softly, with a caress.

Cold and warm tussle in the clearing, chase each other round, round, tag you’re it.

Feint and dodge, giggle, chortle, playground antics.

Trees applaud, laugh at the sight, waving their approval, swaying with delight.

Warm and cold gang up to tickle the big tree in the clearing. Long branch arms wave wildly.

Other trees murmur gleeful enjoyment of the spectacle.

Outer stars twinkle, unperturbed by small drama in the canyon.

Our star slowly fades the others invisible, the Morning Star the last to relinquish night to day.

Sky dome warms through evanescent blues to reveal tree green colors imperceptible just a minute ago.

Dawning the new day, our star persuades cold and warm to come back and play another time.