Well, that didn't last long. Our frosty reprieve was short lived and the forest is once again returned to dank. Dank, the worst of weather. Even the resolute forest ponies, appeared to have a forlorn look on the faces. It starts to rain again; oh, joy. Hey, I don't mind the rain really, and know it's essential to green and pleasant land, although when it's set in, it can be a bit of a bummer. The filigree of rivulets that extend into the upland headwaters of the forest streams flow vigorously again and the clay soils beneath the leaf litter suck at your boots, so saturated is the land. It's at times like these in the forest when you're reminded how the wilderness of bogs, thick woodlands and heaths in the forest must have represented a foreboding landscape in past times, and what a task it would have been to traverse it.
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