The young man, perched insecurely in the slender branches, rocked till he felt slightly drunk, reached down the boughs, where the scarlet beady cherries hung thick underneath, and tore off handful after handful of the sleek, cool-fleshed fruit.

Cherries touched his ears and his neck as he stretched forward, their chill finger-tips sending a flash down his blood.

All shades of red, from a golden vermilion to a rich crimson, glowed and met his eyes under a darkness of leaves.
The sun, going down, suddenly caught the broken clouds.

Immense piles of gold flared out in the south-east, heaped in soft, glowing yellow right up the sky.

The world, till now dusk and grey, reflected the gold glow, astonished.