Hard Rain

The wind's grown chill as Autumn persists, although I know once walking we'll warm up, the Sun still holds some sway. Racing across Rock Hills it creates movement amidst the browning ferns and heathers making them dance to its tune. The colours change daily now, new vistas emerge, a gift from nature, a gift that never stops giving. Entering Red Rise Shade at Rooks Bridge, the air calms, amongst the Oak trunks at least; not so in the canopy though. As the wind rustles the canopy, it rains acorns and leafs; a hard rain, a sound like a heavy shower on a tin roof. Cows graze amid the trees, the spirit of jazz amongst them. The woods are noisy, Red Rise Brook though, moves silently through the shade, graceful and smooth. The glassy surface of the brook is broken by falling acorns which land with a satisfying sploosh.