Canopies across the forest are rapidly thinning, strong winds wrack the boughs, stripping the forest of its coat of many colours and the leafs fall like rain. Already, amongst the still patially clothed trees stand the naked skeletal forms of the season to come. Today the woodland fringe is alive again with diverse bird song, spured in to action by the ticking clock; the birds prepare frantically for the lean times. The small woodland streams struggle under the weighty influx of leafs; both of the main tributaries of Latchford Brook have sucumbed to a developing multicoloured leaf blanket with long sections almost completely carpeted in golden tones. It's been a good year for woodland, tree/shrub berries, through Free Worm Hill wood many of the Holly boughs are bowed with the weight of bright red berries. Moving times.
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