The forest felt proper autumnal this afternoon, it was warm and dank, a light rain blanketed the landscape, softening everything, it had moistened the leaves on the woodland floor just enough for you to move unheard through the stands. Periodically the tiny raindrops which clung to the canopy way up above, would merge and tumble earthwards in isolated down pours. I became aware that I made no noise as I walked, I listened for any give away sound I may make as I move, though heard nothing. Nothing but for the drip drop of the rain and the occasional acorn, Burley Old was silent and still. And I moved silently through it. I'm fairly invisible too in my usual forest toned cloths. Though clearly not invisible enough, as although I freeze as soon as I see him, a fine white stag has clocked my approach, disappearing through the bracken he moves off with his girls at speed, and is lost in autumns jumble. A couple of ponies looked up, though realizing there's nothing going on, quickly return to their chomping. And the stands are silent and still again. Burley Old is beautiful today, subtly lit through the holes in its canopy left by the fallen. I stand a while in tranquillity and take in the beauty of the woodland, I breath it in, it's magical, it's an antidote to some of the crappier elements of modernity, it's reviving and rejuvenating. Nice. Restored, I continued on with my damp walk leaving Burley Old and its inhabitants in peace. I'm grateful for the forest.
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