World through a window

At around 5 am in the morning, the cattle was grazing the green lush fields. Their sheds were now ready to be cleaned. The lumps of cowdung which decorated the greenery,  like a pudding, were still glowing - a displaying the sign of their freshness. The cool breeze was now raising the hair on my skin. Still I managed to enjoy it somehow resisting the shivering which was now evident to others. 

               

           The skies were still dozing, forgetting to make way for the sun. The stacks of hay which were kept in heaps now scattered all across the soil, their own weights challenging the air. I gazed through the glass stained bar window, at the changing rails , their hands soldered to one another. The speeding train next to mine swiped everyone's laziness like a sandstorm blowing the rooftops. I suddenly shuddered my way out of the world through the window.