The window (a night in Finland)

The window (14th July 2024, Korpo, FI)

At night, when I can't sleep, I look over to the window.
The window looks out onto the street, where a street lamp glows under a sleeping blue summer sky and a deciduous tree grows out of the darkness on the right, seemingly pressing towards the light.
The tree, which has allowed its branches to grow so that its richly leafy twigs hang directly under the lamp and are illuminated in the semi-darkness. The small shiny leaves glow ochre-yellowish-green against the rich blue sky.
And when the wind makes the round leaves tremble, you can hear the gentle rustling of the leaves rubbing lightly against each other, and you think you're watching a scene from a film that triggers an indefinable longing.

When gazing through the window with the blinds all the way down, but at a slight angle so that the arrangement of light, shadow and moving image can be seen from a distance, you wonder whether this description is enough or if a picture or video would describe more, than what the imagination can.