For all of you who wish to see the beauty that I see come follow me.

Silver birch litter the wood’s floor fallen soldiers that once stood so sure woodland animals can not resist their allure many scored with teeth marks galore.

Rotting in silence but not forgotten some hold strip marks from rutting deer’s sap still remains resembling seeping tears.

Star shaped moss of the deepest green covers parts creeping over their broken split seams tiny insects work as a team to travel over this mountain terrain food and a new shelter is their gain.

Fallen leaves surround them a carpet of crisp spotted black and washed out greens and golden browns settled on the muddied ground the musty smell of decay lingers all around but life is here to be found.

A group of milky white toadstool’s grow in between they wish not to be seen their perfect hoods smooth and soft huddle together each one reaching different heights trying to keep their heads with all their might.

Forest furn of vibrant green sprouts and spreads among the dead growing up and fanning out it’s roots long ago planted firmly in the woods down trodden bed.

Twigs lie on top and underneath scattered with out a care they mingle with the upturned roots of the fallen birch trees and the discarded leaves.

The wind makes it’s presence known as it trembles the attached leaves it blows through with a whistling breeze the menacing creak of the branches on the trees as it weaves with it’s unseeing charm the wood knows it’s charm can cause harm for the still rooted trees brace themselves in alarm.

Did you follow me……………….?

Image via Wikipedia