The trees, usually so serene in their brick-walled sanctuary, tossed their branches in wild celebration of the storm.

Some fell very close to the lake, so close that the wind their passage created made the trees toss like meadow grass.

The trees tossed and thrashed their branches overhead, showering them with leaves and small twigs.

Everywhere, on the hills and along the roads, trees were tossing haglike in the wind.

The hills loom heavily through the storm, single trees tossed and drenched by the downpour.

Outside, the wind had picked up again, and the nearest trees tossed and groaned.

The black trees tossed their limbs as if they were writhing.

Lightning and thunder sported majestically above them, and below the trees heaved and tossed.

The trees tossed and moaned in the wind.

And the great trees toss And leaves blow down, You can almost hear them splash on the ground.