It wasn’t cold, I can remember no scarf, and my hands weren’t shaking as I took the photograph. The trees were all around changing colours, and their mood infected my own as I watched your windows for a hint of movement.

I saw you then, touching a curtain as you passed along the upper floors. You didn’t stop, and I imagined the spring in your step as you descended to the ground floor. A casual greeting to your family, you must have ignored the smell of the coffee and scones, for moments later I saw you again, opening the doors and walking into full view.

You looked across your lands, over to the woods where you thought I would be waiting, but I was already gone, hidden in the shadows, and I’ve kept that day tucked away in my camera, just waiting for this lonely February morning to share it with you.

Last autumn, I saw you from the woods, though you saw me not.