descriptive writing T3 W7

The trees roots are like a dress whisking the bottom of the ground. Roots quietly reach out to the murky to feast on the water, that stops them from rotting. Dark cold shadows cover parts of the dying tree, slowly devouring it to dust. The sunlight jumps through the gaps of the tree like it is a frog. The light fog is as wet as a morning dew. All living creatures hide from the devilish wind and rain, whatever is conquered is sucked back down natures throat.