The rain finally stopped spitting on my hood. I shook my head and then pulled my hood down. The sun was partially out, shinning gingerly through the remaining grey-white clouds. The trees had been stripped of their leaves and their beauty seemed somewhat lost. Each branch wickedly entwined in a series of knots with each other. They stood feeble and skeletal with leaves scattered at their trunks like wounded soldiers on a battlefield. My socks felt damp and my felt back unpleasantly warm and clammy but I wasn?t sure if the rain had found its way past my hood and down my back or if it was just perspiration. I unzipped my coat, welcoming the fresh breeze blowing around me. The stream alongside me glistened from the downpour of myriad droplets and a cardboard coloured leaf raced along. The once vivid green leaves had turned into a russet auburn slush that carpeted the terrain. A cocktail of rainwater and decaying leaves oozed from the impact of my boots creating a mini pool for slugs and other woodland vermin to linger in. Each one of my footsteps tattooed the floor and my cargo pants acted as a canvas to receive the splashing effluence.
Does everything make sense?
Is anything wrong with it?
What can I add?
where should I go from here?
Thank you
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