A light mist pearled the morning.
No surface was exempt from damp fingers.
Small drops drained together to collect in hidden places.
Leaves layered gold on gold.
Where no leaves were, an alien form with a heart-shaped handle flapped from a branch.
Despite earlier frosts some flowers just can’t give up, thrusting new petals from the brown carapace of the newly blighted.
Poor Maizy was much troubled by the vile and verminous tree-rats who flicked their tails contemptuously in her face as she, leashed as bye-laws require, barked choked and goggle-eyed threats of violent death.