Bright moon light illuminated the lake as the still currents mirrored the dark sky and shining stars. While crickets chirped in the light breeze, you could smell the scent of fall in the dead of one autumn night. The picnic tables were dark shadows under the shapes of trees, and vague bushes could be distinguished in the near distance. The small clearing, surrounded by woods and cut off by water, was at peace. While the day had been long, the small park could finally rest after picnics and parties, gatherings and wanderings. The fish in the lake could now near the water's edge, and the small critters could collect the day’s crumbs. The night glittered in peace as this picture was painted into the shining lake. Fluttering fireflies added dots of glitter, and nothing could disturb the peace in the dead of one autumn night. 

Through the cricket chirps, and the wind rustled leaves, the sky captured faint footsteps that repeated the pattern of someone on a midnight stroll, each footstep was followed by a light tap, as if a walking stick was being used. The noise, however, was not a disturbance to the peace, but only added to the serenity. It was a quiet, consistent step, that told one not to be worried in the dead of one autumn night. The scene’s tranquility remained the same, and the creatures went along with their business as if nothing had changed.

As fireflies went on blinking, crickets chirping, and critters collecting, the enclosure picked up on another sound. The sound of frantic footsteps. These were different then the footsteps with the tap that followed, they were closer to the clearing then the others, and they were uncoordinated, inconsistent, they tripped over every loose root and stone. But still the tranquility of the glade did not change, the fireflies noticed nothing, the crickets heard nothing, and the breeze kept blowing. The frantic footsteps got closer, but paused for just a moment after the thud of a fall, then continued their disoriented path. The peaceful steps with the tap after did not change, and neither did the picture painted into the lake in the dead of one autumn night.

At the far end of the glade a sudden rustling was heard, and the frantic footsteps burst through the bushes. They again paused after another thud of a fall, and this time the frantic footsteps turned into a shuffling, as if they were dragging themselves on the ground. This one thing was the only inconsistent thing in the entire clearing. Everything else was peaceful and calm. The crickets chirping, the fireflies blinking, the wind blowing, even the strolling steps with the tap that followed. The shuffling body moved away from the bushes at a slow, but distraught state. The steps with the tap that followed finally entered the clearing and continued towards the shuffling body until both came to a stop. Everything was peaceful again. The critters could continue gathering their rations, the wind could continue to rustle the leaves of trees and bushes, and the crickets could continue to sooth the glade with their chirping.

All the sudden a loud bang echoed through the clearing, and rattled the trees. Everything came to a stop. You could no longer hear the crickets chirping or the wind blowing in the dead of one autumn night, the only thing that moved was the water that rippled from the force of the bang. Then, those footsteps with the tap that followed continued on their path, and everything resumed. The moonlight shone on the lake, the crickets chirped their tunes, and the wind blew through the leaves of bushes and trees in the dead of one autumn night.