I once fell in love with a bird. He came and he went, staying only until the summer was spent. I mourned him in orange and in brown, but he was never there when the colors came down.
There once was a bird who followed the seasons. He swore that he'd stay if I gave him one reason. To hell with the weather, he'd pluck every feather. He left it to me, but it wasn't to be, because I loved him for his wings and he cared only for leaves.
Photography by Abigail Saturday