The sounds are of the wind in the larch trees
and geese flying overhead or a thumping of a hidden grouse
and the scent in the air is of fallen leaves
and wood smoke and a promise of winter
and all around the trees stand golden in the sunshine
until night comes and a million holes prick the blanketing darkness
and little voices talk on about their day
and cousins' voices talk quietly of many things.
Away....
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