Listen. The trees in this story are stirring, trembling, readjusting themselves. A breeze is coming in gusts off the sea, and it is almost as if the trees know, in their restlessness, in their head-tossing impatience, that something is about to happen.
Maggie O'Farrell (2010). “The Hand That First Held Mine”, p.3, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
