Warmth.
Coming and going as they please, whispy, resolute clouds mosey onward with unrelenting compassion.
The forest mumbles to itself as each cloud, without hesitation or faulter, meticulously readjusts a patchwork blanket of golden light, softly spread across the forest's floor.
One by one, the process repeats itself.
Fragments of stone, half eaten leaves, and critters of every kind are tucked in, and re-tucked in, until the sun decides it's time to go to sleep.
photo by Karen Lane