Park

Tired greens of late summer cling to the trees in the park, as an early Autumn breeze blows through, pulling off exhausted leaves.

It is still warm enough for T-Shirts and shorts. A runner passes by, coated in fluorescent orange. She disturbs a squirrel; busy raiding the café bin. It looks up in alarm, then sprints to the nearest tree, where it disappears amongst the thick foliage.

So I sit here. Two hours to waste. An ice-filled glass of Victorian lemonade, my tablet computer, and a park full of people waiting for golden trees filled with russet browns.