The moon glowed orange, just peaking from behind the mountains and dimmed by the fog. It was the perfect atmosphere for a strange night, though this night would not be drastically different from many other summer nights. A pale figure, cloaked in dark clothing, hiding their ocean of hair draping above their shoulders. The figure stepped out from under the shadows of their house and into the moonlight, illuminating their ghostly skin. They looked at the broken swing hooked onto their tree. One side hung from the tree still, while the other draped uselessly on the ground from when it broke a few months ago. The mysterious figure picked up the chain and pulled it over to the opposite side and threw it over a branch, then hooked it in a loop, useless for a swing, but if you were balanced enough, it could be used as a step to get to the lowest branch of the huge tree. They put one foot onto the swing, gripping the bark and the branch that was now in their reach. Finally, they pulled themself into the thick, rough, branch of the tree.

Now that the hard part was over, they made their way up to the center. At first climbing this huge tree was hard. It was never a climbable tree, since the lowest branch was always out of reach. But with a little improvising they had their own private getaway spot. They finally reached the center of the tree. It was easily accessible to them, and no one could see anything from here. 

They paused for a moment, to enjoy the scenery. They’d only been able to climb this tree for a few months, but the sight never got old. In the distance there were shimmering lights of the nearby city. And above the city was the mountains. The moon had barely risen above the mountain, and still was quite orange. A smile crept across their face. The moonlight, the fog… it was all quite dramatic.

However, their time was limited, so they could not stop to enjoy the scenery tonight. They closed their eyes, and concentrated. A few ocean curls made their way out of their hood. In the distance, their back porch light flickered. It always did that. Someone should really fix it.

After a while, they felt it. The first drop. It slipped down their nose, and plopped onto their nose. A breeze blew by, and more rain started falling, despite the fact it was a Californian Summer. The figure in the trees looked up at the rain, only slightly surprised. The figure held out their ghostly pale hand and a few drops slid into it. Quickly, they closed it, as if they were holding something invisible. A few more drops fell, until the rain ceased entirely, like it had never been there. The moon was now as pale as the figure in the trees. The figure hopped down to the lower branches, and then jumped onto the ground. 

They looked back at the tree, and then walked back into their house. As they passed the porch light it flickered. They made a mental note to replace it.