“Even in the stillness, the storm learns to whisper its secrets through the trees.

The cove held its breath, a canvas washed in muted tones of gray and gold. Every ripple on the lake mirrored the sky’s hesitation, as if water and air had made a silent pact not to disturb what was shifting beneath.

Then came the sound, sharp, brittle, alive. The crack of wood surrendering after months of summer dryness. A tree gave way, carving its own path with no regard for what it might strike. The silence before and after was as loud as the fall itself.

Somewhere between the rush of the wind and the echo of impact, time stretched thin. It was no longer about a tree, or even the danger of where it landed. It was about the reminder that nothing stands forever untouched. Even what feels steady can be remade in a single breath of change.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-

Tomorrow, silence will shift again, not by breaking, but by carrying a voice that does not belong to the wind.