
I walk on brown and brass,
russet and ochre.
With a crunch;
Crisp leaves
underfoot.
Wind blows cool;
Tall trees rustle
and a bristling shower
of leaves:
descend around me:
Golden, floating treasures.
Autumnal splendour
As branches bare all
for winters coming.

Squirrels scuttle,
burying their supplies
in the remnants
Of summer.
Beech nuts and acorns aplenty,
lay scattered
like pebbles.
My feet skip over
spiked conkers:
Some raided,
by children
for games.

Under the layers
of leaf and nut
ground turns moist
and mud:
A squelch and squish.
Brown, red splashes
rise up rubber boots
of Wellington,
And dogs head home
with stained underbellies
and caked paws.

In the shadows of tree
the splendid Fungi family grow.
Mushrooms of varied designs:
White grey caps;
Curved or flattened;
Oyster-like;
Crimson, orange or pocked.
A feast for the fox;
The all-year rounder
flash of tail;
While other creatures
prepare to rest.

This season of change;
Of letting goes.
Withdrawing, slowing;
Preparing to sleep.
Trees naked to the
harsher weather that comes,
but their scatterings
sheltering the life that still breathes
underneath.

I turn my face to the wind,
Skin wrapped in fleece;
Socks not sandles.
Enjoying the colours
of the autumn hue
and the swirling, falling dance
of leaves,
in this seasonal show.
Again, the gifts of nature,
of our home,
keep giving.
By Maxine Bell @2020
All photos taken by me on my phone on local walks.
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