It's raining in Holidays Hill Enclosure 1681, it would appear that my recent comments regarding the dry nature of the forest may have been a bit previous. April showers, a quintessentially English thing. The forest is subdued, shrouded; although still the moisture filled air and grey leaden skies can't suppress the riot of bird song which continues to swell through the high tops of ancient trees or the frequent groups of deer processing through the stands, as all nature waits restlessly on springs starting blocks.
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