The evening wind made such a disturbance just now, among some tall old elm-trees at the bottom of the garden, that neither my mother nor Miss Betsey could forbear glancing that way. As the elms bent to one another, like giants who were whispering secrets, and after a few seconds of such repose, fell into a violent flurry, tossing their wild arms about, as if their late confidences were really too wicked for their peace of mind, some weatherbeaten ragged old rooks’-nests, burdening their higher branches, swung like wrecks upon a stormy sea.

From “David Copperfield,” by Charles Dickens

When Charles Dickens with his masterful prose describes this scene, the evening wind comes alive. And so do the trees, which seem to absorb the characters’ somber mood into their sap and take on a life of their own.  Dickens transports the readers to a world of wonders where their imagination thrives as they bask in the mysticism of the Victorian era.