The sun shone through brightly. It was as if the world was brought to life only in the sun. It awakened a sense of freshly painted house, a new born orchid, lifted the soul in delight. Leaves were glistening in yellow or gold would be more appropriate. All the glitters are not gold. Yes, sometimes they are leaves. Wind breezing gently through the leaves, added a sense of awe in the morning air. Trees seem to be dancing with the wind. The blue painted sky, bright as a crystal, there wasn't a tinge of clouds to be found there.
Terrific or drastic? What could be the right word to describe what happened next? Someone took a brush and painted the sky in white, no beige, or whiteish, or bluish. Nope, I can't describe that color with 26 lettered Language. The sky was not blue anymore. Leaves weren't glistening anymore. Everything was grey, and gloomy. The strands of grey clouds marched one after another, formed layer after layer until everything under the sky reflected it.
I assumed that this could not be good at least in the context of nature. But to my surprise, birds came out of their nests and flew swiftly, the breeze, cold and humid brought Petrichor with the air.
The sight was even more lively. It wasn't glistening gold or bright anymore, but it was still beautiful. The trees held out wide open as if welcoming the drizzle. It got darker and darker. Wind blows faster and faster. Everything was grey under the sky, nevertheless it was magnificent. Who thought grey clouds could bring so much happiness?
