Dark clouds sit ominously low
A shrieking wind tears through the Swamp
Rain pelts down, cold and unforgiving
There is a sudden flash of light
A peal of thunder
And then...
Silence
It's almost as if the Swamp is holding its breath
Bracing itself for the next blow
Instead, the clouds part
Just a little crack, a little tear
But enough for a warm, yellow light to burst forth
Almost tangible in its intensity
A daring frog ribbits
A little bird trills
And as the air fills up with the chorus of the Swamp
A crane beats its wings
Soaring towards the sun