A nip was still in the air as the sun peeped over the clumping bamboo into the orchard, planted twenty years ago beside Molly Milligan, where the loam is deep and fertile.
The dew of the night clung to the handiwork of the field spiders, as the warming air stretched its sleepy extremities. Each droplet blinged its beauty, in anticipation of an unwary insect straying into its clutches.
A member of the ABC Wednesday community.