Swaying in the breeze, the tree creaks and grumbles like an old man. The sound is that of old bones rubbing together. Suddenly, the air is filled with electric expectancy. A charged, musty smell permeates the air. Crack! A flash of lightning, a clap of thunder, and the air is filled with smoke. The magnificent, old, creaky tree has been hit. Fire blossoms on its branches, spreading down the trunk like creeping ivy, leaving a charred trail in its wake. The sweet smell of burning wood replaces the mustiness of before. Another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder rend the air, but farther away. In its solitude, the tree continues to slowly burn. The fire crackles and hisses merrily as it consumes the sweet, dark wood. By morning, all that remains of the once beautiful tree is a black stump tinged with white, life a deformed, burnt marshmallow after you blow it out.