It’s now 7:50. Everyone around me is rushing to get ready, whilst the wind outside picks up, blowing its breath onto every thing it can. Clouds seem to cry as the heavens open, releasing water. Plants seem to be the only living things that enjoy this outburst. Birds fly to their nests, people run to bus shelters, porch covers, cars, anything to protect themselves from the pouring drops of liquid. Then suddenly, as soon as it starts, it stops. The sun fills the sky with its radiant colours and heat, birds come out of hiding, tweeting and twittering as they fly over the same area of sky, whilst plants absorb the sky’s water like a sponge, thankful for the morning rain. Webs of spiders glisten with dew and rain drops, ever so often catching the reflection of the sun, whilst the rain seems to highlight the trail of a snail, leading you to its home under a plant pot. Whilst sitting at the dining table, eating my cereal, I think of the many things had happened in those 4 minutes. Sitting in my day dream, I’m disturbed by a deep voice; I collect my stuff, as my dad waits for me. As he opens the door, a radiant, bright light with bursts of noise enters the hall. At first it startles me, but I gradually become used to it. The rain has added to the fresh smell of the grass and flowers, creating a scent I wish I could bottle for perfume. Unfortunately, the smell starts to fade, as my sense of smell seeks clean air for breath. As I step onto the hard ground, I think of all the soft mud and grass that’s buried underneath, and how they miss this wonderful experience everyday. Flowers seem to be racing each other to the sky, fighting for the sun’s rays that can bounce off their surreal colour, helping them to be noticed above the rest. As I make my way to the car, I notice the ladybirds, adding their own colourful effect onto pavements, grass and flowers, ants collecting food for their colony, marching in two by two, whilst friendly cats stretch amongst the scratchy grass, making the most of the morning beauty. Although I know that this happens everyday, I’ve never really noticed how beautiful and mysterious it really is. Though I know that all good things have to end, I know that the morn will come again when the night loses its hold on the world. When the beautiful morn comes to open up everything again, to make everything come to life again. At that moment in time, whilst I am sitting in the car, I particularly dread the night coming and ruining this beautiful morn.
Night
As I walk up my drive, I think of memories that have been created this day. A happy, jubilant smile appears on my face, though I suddenly realise everything has changed. The world does not seem to be as happy as this morning. Flowers now seem to be withering away from the sky, drawing closer and closer to their roots in the soil. Ants begin running to their homes to escape the ever-drawing dark curtain that slowly taunts the world, teasing it on when it’s going draw the day to a close and awaken the dark night onto the world. Ladybirds fly away in a frenzy, desperately trying to find their homes. As I open the broad, grand front door with its large lion’s head door knob, it seems to come alive, as if it’s ready for a night’s prowl. I spin around to take a look at everything that surrounds me before I turn my back on it and enter the safety of my home. The friendly cats seem to change; as if they have split personalities. They now haunt the night, looking for innocent creatures who have failed to escape the dark cloak. Inside, I glance outside the window. The wind suddenly sneezes violently, sending a fast burst of air over Southgate. Flowers shrivel in fear, grass bends with the wind, preventing itself from becoming bended and twisted whilst tree branches lose their leaves, turning into long bony fingers tapping on windows and haunting the night to come. Suddenly, without warning, the curtain closes on the heavens. It happens so quickly that you don’t really notice it, though you realise the atmosphere changing. I remember the fresh, radiant feeling I had this morning, as if the sun’s rays were coming out from inside me, but now I feel completely different. I feel miserable, as if a dark cloth has burnt out my candle that created the ray of happiness I felt earlier. Everything seems to have changed; everything looking so different. I begin to hear a loud, rumbling hum, as traffic begins building up. It seems as if everything living is trying to run from the night. All of a sudden everything stops. The loud hum has disappeared, but it is soon replaced by a disturbing trumpet noise. The roads have come to a standstill and in irritation cars seem to be making noises of their own, as if asking other cars to move.
After dinner, the cars are still booming away. I glance out the window and up to the sky above. Dark grey objects stop the stars from breaking free; stop the light from brightening the night. Roofs of houses seemed to have disappeared as they blend in with the night sky, whilst flower heads seem to close up, protecting themselves from the night, sleeping till the morn. Workers arrive home, knackered from the day, dreading tomorrow. They seem to be the only living creatures that enjoy the night.
Settling down for the evening, the usual programmes take over from the light entertainment that amuses children and housewives.. Soon, adults seem hypnotised by the teenage pregnancies, affairs and weddings that seem a natural occurrence in ‘Eastenders’ and ‘Coronation Street,’ whilst children softly snore in other rooms, dreaming of the day’s events, occasionally turning. I sluggishly walk into my room and slump on my bed. I can faintly hear the vibrating sound of the crickets as they wake to jump freely in the night. Owls start awakening, looking for helpless mice for dinner, occasionally ‘hooting’ to their fellow owls. I think of the day’s events, and how morn seemed so long ago. It will soon be ten ‘o’ clock, and the low hum of traffic can be heard again, faint breathing coming from the next room, birds slowly, one by one, stop tweeting, and in the silence, I slowly drift to sleep.