The field grass was a tall, with broken, and dry strands, so dry and flimsy that it would rustle in the wind. Yellowish with a brown tint made the field look like it went on forever. Mello Yellow, the sky looked that day with high clouds in front of a gleaming sun. With trees scarcely scattered about with very few leaves on them, like as if everything was about to die, but still had a little hope of life with the scattered leaves dangling from the branches. As the wind blew, the leaves were struggling to stay attached to the branches, they were twisting, fluttering, and somehow managing to stay attached to the branches. When all of a sudden something swoops out
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