Again the damp is penetrating, chill fingers jab relentlessly at any exposed skin, a brisk wind blows amongst the trunks. The woodland floor is now blanketed in a thick layer of newly fallen leafs, softened by the rain, yet still exuding a gentle crisp sound when trodden on and compressed. The woods feel closed for business, all the jobs completed, every harvest collected, (nearly) every leaf fallen, another good years work well done and a rest now well deserved. Amidst the stands of the Old Enclosure early victims of the seasons weather have crashed to the ground, a huge Beech bough has fallen taking down several small Holly trees; the Holly trees are now accessible to the hungry horses who have gathered to feed on the evergreen spiky fare, whilst others graze beyond the wood along Mill Lawn Brook. The brook has retreated back with in its banks after flooding the open lawn, although not completely with several areas of standing water remaining, some knee deep! Detritus carried by the recent floods and left during the waters retreat pay testament to the extent and power of the flow; and the wet season is only just beginning.
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