The woods are still, but for the sounds created by the occasional light breeze, just powerful enough to elicit movement amongst the canopy. A few birds high in the branches generate a gentle bird song which permeates the woodland; soothing and restful. As the ferns die back and the trees lose their summer cloths, lost vistas return and the woods open up once more. A solitary stag proudly prances out of the fading summer foliage, looks about briefly, before returning to cover; the deer are keeping a low profile, small groups or individuals hidden in clumps of shrub, only breaking cover when disturbed. The forest is winding down, preparing for the dark half of the year, as the Celts called it.