I often sit under the moonlight and listen to what the night has to offer; 

Sometimes it offers more than you think. 

I listen to the soft rustling of the leaves, 

 As my classmates and I are dismissed from school, I decide to take the long way to my bus stop. For I have quite some thinking to do. I watch the birds fly. The squirrels scrambling for shelter as the howling wind picks up.

I tell this story to my children often enough that I fear they will memorize it and think it real. I thought it was real too when I was younger. Now I know better.