Finding the Frame

The morning light settled quietly across the grass. Looking down, I felt the small black camera shift between my hands—my fingers had actually moved on their own. I adjusted my grip, testing the steady feel of the lens. Just in front of me, nestled among the fallen brown leaves, sat a miniature pair of boots. I tilted the camera slightly downward, aligning the frame with the dry foliage and the still ground ahead. Every contour in the grass was crisp and clear. I stayed crouched in place, quietly taking in the view.