Nightfall

As the night falls from interstices of burning clouds, lumbering through the broad sky like grazing herds of sheep There comes a great forlornness through the deep forests of Zambia. Land marked by Withered Tallowwood branches, that once covered the fiery red sun. The bayou, with dry river beds sleeping all the more calmly than hibernating Owls~ Looking somewhat haggard in their night coats~ waiting for the setting sun. Summoning nature's obligation that remains oblivious to the break of dawn.