Summer rolls into Autumn, the air thickens and the morning mist lingers. Dewy spider web tiaras bedeck the hedgerow gallery, glistening in the palid daylight. A far away pheasant call briefly interrupts the muffled birdsong chorus. Leaves change into their finest brown and bronze and gold gowns then fall to join the dance.
Posted by: The Malt House | October 14, 2010
The Autumn Ball
Posted in Autumn/winter | Tags: autumn, England, Mist, nature, photography, poetry, prose
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