Caw caw ...

Just the delicious smell of rot

Sometimes it's the nothing that's actually the best.

Today, as we walk through the woods, there is very little going on except autumn. It’s so quiet in the woods, it seems we have it all to ourselves -lucky us!  Moss carries her habitual piece of litter; a tin can of what?  Beer I assume … a brand I don't even recognise.

She trots along in front of me, her tail up high looking merry.  Her harness clinks as she trots.

We do our usual circuit; I make no attempt to do anything new or even curious. We come across nobody at all.

Above, in the canopy, the rooks are calling: caw caw.  One of our local naturalists, tells me that the rooks have quite recently formed a rookery in the woods, which accounts for their loud presence. I have such a love of rooks; their call is one of the fondest sounds of my childhood.

Since it’s cold now, I'm wearing a hat; I can't actually see them. All I can do is hear them - which makes it even better.

There isn't much birdsong either; just a few noisy wrens. Such tiny birds with enormous voices.  And another bird I'm not quite sure of.

It's a solitary experience.  Whilst it's easy to seek out excitement or intrigue, that simply isn't going to happen today.

It’s just me, my dog, and the sound of rooks above us.

And frankly, I feel that maybe this is what I need to learn to appreciate: the calm moments. The quiet times when not a lot is happening, just the gentle sigh of life.

And the delicious smell of rot.

The leaves are tumbling down now and it's damp. There are generation upon generation of leaves rotting down – beautiful and almost pungent.

The distinctive smell of autumn.

AJK