Writing Prompt

Some nights I lay listening to the trees argue . You can see the leaves battling the breeze before they crumble to the floor as the tree mumble farewell you’ve dwelled too much of the cold don’t shy away .

let your story be told !...

In manchen Nächten liege ich still im Gras und höre den Bäumen beim diskutieren zu. Groß sind sie die Bäume, alle gehen sie an die stattlichen 10 Meter heran, und breit sind sie erst! Man bräuchte um sie zu umfassen so an die 4 Leute mindestens, doch darin liegt nicht ihr eigentlicher Zauber. Den bekommt man nur zu spüren, wenn du dich ganz lautlos unter einen von ihnen legst und genau lauscht. Ma...

Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue. They don’t speak unless spoken to, more of a debate than an arguement. The wind influences them, pushing them to choose sides and speak. Like a soft rhythm.

I like to close my eyes and imagine their noises are the ocean rushing up against the sand and sharing stories.

I like to imagine a time where the trees weren’t the only o...

Their leaves rustle in the wind and scrape against each other. My eyes follow the tops of them as they sway towards one another and groan under the pressure. I wish I could understand them. Understand all they have heard and seen. The golden rings in them are a testimony that they've been here for centuries. They've witnessed the rise and fall of the humans under them, and I wish they would speak ...

I lay down on the soft and silky, green grass as flat as a mat. All I do is just gaze at the black stary night until my eyes almost pop out like popcorn. But, the one thing that almost boggles my mind is when the trees argue with each other on who is the fattest of them all! All I can here is just ‘No, I am the fattest because of gigantic and thick body!’. But, like just why in the world would you...

Some nights I lay silently in the grass and listen to the trees argue.

Other nights, I join in.

But not this night. This night I lay motionless, relishing the tickling sensation of the grass blades on my bare feet. A slight breeze dances off my skin, an eruption of goosebumps left in its path.

The stars shine bright, not a cloud in the sky. There's a full moon tonight. It illuminates the forest...

When I was younger I was obsessed with nature. The glint of sunlight kissing the top of a lake; the colour journey the leaves pass through every year; the whispers that travel on the wind, entwining themselves with strands of my hair. I would spend hours lying on the grass, gazing at the passing clouds, my fingertips dancing along the flower buds. I observed the seasons moving with glee, finding b...

Some nights I lay in the grass and listen to the trees argue, oh how peaceful it is! The brushing of the trees leaves, and the owls hooting, and the crickets making their noise, it’s not silent, but its quiet....

Some nights I lay silently on the grass. When I find sleep won’t come easily, the sounds of still life keep my mind from running a whole train loop. Tonight, the crickets chirp as loud as ever. Fireflies flicker in and out of sight. I lift my finger up to touch one, but just before it connects with the little insect, the bug flickers back into the darkness. Part of me envy’s them—the power to appe...

Some nights I lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue. Most quarrels are quite entertaining to eavesdrop on. Some are tiring, pointless, and not worth listening to. Today, when I lay down on my spot by the lake, my name is tossed into their conversation.

“It looks like Lillian has returned.” An oak tree spoke.

“Who?” The groggy timbre of the weeping willow answered.

“Lillian! Th...