Hair

 

She sat and brushed her hair as part of her morning routine.

Her hair was long and glorious, the burnished copper hue of autumn leaves, and it relaxed her to brush it and gaze out of the window at the forest.

One particularly still morning, she noticed the tallest tree swayed as though there was a wind blowing, but there wasn’t.

It swayed in time to her brushing and stopped when she stopped.

When she shook her head to fluff her locks, the tree shuddered hard enough that squirrels fell out of it.

She shaved her head that very day.