As the brittle and stark days of winter leave trees bare against granite skies.
Emmy captures the last blinking glimpses, lingering gazes and fading traces of Autumntime.
Here is our day through her eyes.
With the pictures she found.
A sycamore leaf surfaces from the birdbath.
Early morning shivers, blue and crisp as any day in early spring might.
Clouds rustle against the trembling edges of emerald green Bay leaves.
Details, flutter, pause, wonder, glint.
Unassumingly.
Washing the days in their own colours.
Defining the hours, with their own outlines.
As afternoon wanes, birds chirrup amongst the naked branches of a sycamore tree.
As the pieces of our day scatter gently to the earth like the last of the Autumn leaves. ~