The Sunrise

The edgy huts lay still under the shadow of the sky. Every single one inscribed at a constant distance. Fences gaurded those huts, parting a hut from another. Inside the fences grew lucious, flowering shrubs, which engulfed their surrounding with a tastey fragerence. Beyond all the huts was a thick layer of evergreen trees, that formed a canopy over the sleeping creatures. To elaborate the scence, there were elephantine mountains that jolted towards the sky, as if trying to poke the delicate balck bubble.
There was no sign of sound, except the scatters of tiny crickets crooking. Everyhing was at rest. The small huts, the tangled bushes, the wooden fences, the evergreen trees, the thin tributeries, the gigantic mountains, the smallest dust particles. Everything was asleep, from the grass-coated ground, to the star-sparkled sky. Everything at peace, waiting to awaken.
At frist a seam of bright yellow was revealed from behind the magnificent rocks. Just one at first, and then another. And keeping its pace, a shy arc exposed itself between the two triangular rocks. It slowly grew, depicting its potentials of a semi-circle. It was bright, it was glittering. It was fiesty, it was a speachless site. As it grew to be a glowig ball, above all the huts, above all the fences, and above all the canopies, and above all the mountains. It shined, as it corroded through the shadows, making them fade away, it was overwhelming.
Everything had come to live. The tiniest due drom, that had rested motionlessly on the sleepy leaf, gleamed. Evertyhing was alive, from the shaded creatures, to the dark mountains. Everything was alive, under the shadow of the burning sun.