The rays grow larger and found their way into the juncture of the tree's blossoms, creating a conical flood of light emanating from the top of the tree towards the ground.
Outside the glass window, the sky is the color of cobalt blue, marred by tenuous spherical clouds. Like the frosty mist that forms when you purse your lips and breathe onto a glass pane, the bulbous clouds disappear and spawn into other forms - a child's head, a head of cabbage, a used rag doll wrapped in wool. Then, the sky hangs menacingly like a decrepit blue canopy. Its silvery hues mar one's vision. The sun's rays on the window pane flickered violently as they take the shape of a palmate leaf washed in bright light. The streaks of light fall onto the undergrowth of the pin oak below the glass window as they grow larger. As the rays of the sun find its way between the junctures of the tree's foliage, the cone-shaped light floods the tree and the ground with its intense luminosity.