Walk with me where the light is still dappled through leaves that have not yet browned and fallen, where the Great Tits still want to ‘teach ya’ and feathers lie here and there a reminder of August great moult.
Walk with me where the nettles are seeding and the hazel is allowed to grow tall, where the ivy flowers amongst the Michaelmas berries, left untouched and the old man begins to let his beard grow long for the winter.
The holly is greening and the fields are full of crisp brown seed heads. The finches dance above them, the swallows long gone and at my feet are chestnuts, hazelnuts, acorns in the mud and a carpet of beech nuts to mark my path home.
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Walk With Me