I remember one night, not so long back in fact, when I was home by myself and the wind was hollering outside. It whispered between fence panels and you could hear the trees swaying as if something wrong had been said or done. Like the earth was angry. Something in the air that you can't explain. If you can't see it then how can you prove it's there, right? But it was. And I felt it.
Uneasiness isn't something I deal well with. Perturbed. At first they creep. And you can't stop it and they start to run. It becomes unstoppable. As you cower on the other side of the fence, you see what should protect you but you can't feel it anymore. You feel as vulnerable as the nature that hollers on the other side. And as they whisper, you now hear what they are saying. And maybe you're sorry. For what? Maybe you don't even know. But you are sorry.