Forest description
Nell Blower-Walker
Tuesday 28th February 2023
As the trees brushed against the sunset sky, the forest’s colours began to fade. Leaves glided peacefully down onto the rough cobblestone. Twigs snapped vigorously as badgers rushed home to their sett, while yesteryears foxes began the hunt. The path was entwined with crisscrossing undergrowth and thorns that were like needles piercing your skin. The sound of shallow whispers hung in the towering trees above.
The trees had small, fragile branches that twisted and turned, each one displaying a vast amount of autumn’s palette. The pine dwelling birds sung and whistled creating a magical atmosphere.
But it was almost too scenic.
An abandoned city stood at the edge of the forest, the sun echoing onto each boulder of rock.
It was deserted.
Decaying, withered branches loomed and searched for answers, while tall, prickly vines encroached the spiralling turrets.
As the wind wandered through the maze-like labyrinth of faceless marble, the ancient oaks creaked in the lonely breeze.
Nightfall was raining down upon the city, as the clouds fell clockwise. The forest was now alive with daunting creatures and meandering roots.
Poppies waved in the wind as a crackling fire danced in the moonlight.
Nothing stirred.