Softly the rustling leaves stir on the frosty morning mist, hovering ghost like through the stark white trunks in their green mossy boots. Stately they stand like marble statues in some long forgotten parkland, their vibrant fall leaves dapple the milky light with golden orange wings that seem to float on the mist. Spidery thin vein like branches reach here there and everywhere creating a web of artistic texture across natures canvas.
The damp air tickles the nose and clings heavily to us in the early morning light, faint smells of moss and fungus barely discernible to the senses. It's a fairy tale environment, rich in whimsy and magical connotations, daring us to venture deeper in the hidden depths or lose some time wishfully day dreaming. Sit for a while too and watch for fluttering fairies or a sneaky passing goblin, a carpet of crumbling leaves as your rug, a textured white trunk at your back.