The forest is quiet, little stirs, the majority of woodland creatures appear to be shutting up their stalls until Spring. Only a skeleton crew will see the forest through Winter, the bulk tucked away in their secret places. One thing that that remains very much alive are the colours in the canopy, Autumns leafy fire burns bright. A breeze blows through the crowns dislodging hundreds of leafs and soon the stands fill with spinning, twirling, acrobatic detritus, which floats slowly to the ground. The leafs were so numerous that if they were rain you'd be soaked through.
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