41. Ball of Fire

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Sometimes, the sky would weave together white cotton in splendid shapes and sizes, which would allow the playful sun to conduct a game of hide and seek, or perform charades across the canvass of mountains, forests and patchy river works.

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On cold mornings, you could almost hear the woods shiver in warmth and sigh in contentment when they receive the attention of the sun. They would shake off the night’s dewy company in anticipation for daylight. The wind would bring around the music and all the forests would dance to greet the new day.

The trees would stretch and reach to the heavens in order to nab just a second more of that glorious ephemeral golden breeze. It’s like coffee to their good mornings.

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The droplets of gold would trickle down through the leaves and branches, to be cast upon even the smallest of dandelions and newborns. Into the turquoise snaking around, over and under, creating a necklace of blue diamonds worthy of this legendary beauty.

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