The leaves on the edge of the wood were tinged, in places, with the first traces of autumn gold. The spruce trees were rich in sticky pendulous fir cones, the holly gaudy with scarlet drupes, clustered as thickly as ripe grapes. In the shadow of the wood, legions of thistles stood decaying into otherworldly desiccated shapes, their dried seed heads hanging sorrowfully amid tussocks of tangled clover. The hedgerows were spread with a banquet of blackberries, a feast for passing birds.
