I took Molly
for a walk in the beech woods on Saturday and was delighted to see, despite the
cold wind, that spring had sprung. It was particularly evident in the birdsong:
the joyful, melodic chorus of the thrushes and blackbirds a celebration of the new
life emerging within the wood. The sunlight filtered through the trees, robed in
their soft green cloaks and rested on the soft pillows of moss, a tempting promise
of summer to the myriad of creatures that make the woodland their home. As I wandered
along the path, I felt my spirits lift in harmony
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