The wind fights against me as I head through the meadows. Hawthorn leaves are starting to turn brown along the edges, it won’t be long until they start falling. Blackthorn leaves have already started falling with some branches looking bare already. Sycamore seeds spiral there way to the ground, while others cling to the branches.
Dodging Slugs as they cross the path in all directions, black slimy bodies wiggling there way across the path. Two Carrion Crows struggle to take off in the wind out in the meadow, wings feverishly beating to get them air born. Birds are noted by there absence in the sky this morning, all referring the shelter of trees and scrub.
Ducking into a scrub lined path in Saxon field to check the electric fence, it provides a short relief from the relentless wind. Through the rest of the field the brown skeleton like remains of Greater Knapweed, Wild Carrot and Ragwort cling to the ground.
Ivy clambers over walls with flower heads sticking up above the bright green foliage. Old Mans Beard smothers the top of Blackthorn and Hawthorn, white fluffy seed heads looking like snow topped bushes.
Tree sway dramatically as I head back along the top of light house field towards the Learning Centre, white horse charge along the top of the water, churning it up into a frenzy.