Dark behind it rose the forest

An Autumn morning and surprisingly mild. There is an eerie silence as I walk along the narrow road lined with sycamore, beech and hazel trees. They stand motionless, as if in mourning. An occasional leaf floats down to join the carpet of yellow, orange, green and brown leaves. I am tempted to kick my way through them as I did as a child but I don't want to disturb the peace and tranquillity that nature is enjoying. It seems even the birds are asleep.

A fine drizzle hangs in the air as I pass a row of old stone cottages on my way down the hill. Luscious, red berries adorn the... read on

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