colours of spring as the beat of the earth plays the tune 

From the litter of the past. 

In the rising sun of the season, two worlds come forth from the shadows. 

Like Times Square, the industry screams to attract the buyers. 

On pond's green mantle, the world played shadow puppets. 

Re-enforcing the point some what! 

Slowly fading back into the wood. 

In sheltered spots, the sun awaits the weary traveller. 

In the fallen, others find hope. 

Of flesh like tones, branches stay close for comfort and support. 

On forest floor, the darkness is broken by the rage of red. 

Displaying their wares, while others set seed for tomorrow's seasons. 

It's work now done, like a firework it falls to the ground 

At water's edge, nature still puts on her best show. 

Making the most of their moment in the spot light. 

As the sun rose on it's arc, the dapple shade of woods played upon the floor. 

Awaiting the reaper. 

Nature hints at summers fading. 

High rise living, despite the efforts of mankind to keep them out. 

Brick, iron and wood fading into history 

As the paintwork fades and peels, nature reclaims. 

As old die, their glory fades into decaying beauty 

When it comes to advertising where you are, sometimes size does matter! 

A real photographer at work with expensive camera and gadgets and a real grumpy manner too. 

Here in York, the early bird gets first in line for the attractions .