Have you noticed the fallen leaves this autumn? Brightly coloured and crispy leaves appear to be lazily fluttering around everywhere in the breeze, something that is usually short lived when rain comes along and glues them all to the ground. But thanks to our unseasonably dry autumn so far they are drifting around into piles of crunchy autumnal confetti.

I have seen kids kicking their way through piles of leaves on the pavement (who am I kidding…that was me!) and I have even seen a cat chasing them and looking like a lunatic whilst doing so.

I love autumn, and the best place to be in autumn is in the woods. Recently on a trip across the country I paid a visit to Winksworth Arboretum, a National Trust property in Surrey. I had the urge to do some forest bathing and where better to immerse myself but a garden of trees full of multi coloured specimens.

Sitting on a handily placed deckchair I closed my eyes and listened in to the sounds around me. I wanted to try and hear more than the chatting of the people in the distance, the sound of traffic from the nearest road or the sound of the wind in the trees. Closing your eyes helps to properly engage your hearing and in doing so I started to notice more sounds. I noticed ducks and crows calling and robins singing from at least 3 directions, and a splash of a fish jumping in the lake in front of me. Then an army of long tailed tits moved into the oak tree above me and I enjoyed hearing their peeping whilst they foraged amongst its leaves. These birds never stay still for long, and soon I could hear them moving on.

As I opened my eyes I saw ripples in the water in front of me and enjoyed watching as they expanded and dissipated, turning the mirror like surface into rings of light and dark. No sooner than the water had calmed up popped the culprit of the water disturbance; a cormorant clearly on the hunt for its lunch. Disappearing again, I started guessing where it would pop up next, nearly always underestimating how long it would stay under. Every time, new ripples emerged and radiated around the lake, interrupting the colourful reflections of reds and yellows of the surrounding trees. Then success, up popped the cormorant fish in beak, gulp and it was gone. This seemed to be enough for now and it took off, doing 3 laps of the lake before landing in a nearby tree to start digesting its meal.

Long before arriving at Winksworth, I had decided this autumn that I wanted to channel my inner Andy Goldsworthy (if you have not heard of him, it is worth googling him, as his artwork in nature is absolutely stunning) and create some art work using colourful leaves.

I found myself a lovely maple tree with leaves of red and burgundy scattered on the ground around its trunk. It was only a small tree but its leaves were numerous. Clearing a space in the leaves to act as my canvas I set about making a pattern, which I decided would be a spiral. Starting with smaller leaves in the middle I gradually brought in larger leaves, picking only the brightest colours. Round and round and round I went until I felt it was finished (or maybe I was just getting a bit dizzy!) I then trailed the leaves off into the surrounding leaf litter and stepped back to admire my work. See the accompanying photo. I then left my work in hope that others would enjoy looking at it, or even add to it.

Back home and West Alvington woods is a favourite for a bit of autumn indulgence. The woods were turning from greens into autumnal hues; some low lying sweet chestnut leaves lit up like yellow stained glass in the few rays of sun beaming down through the still dense canopy.

These woods bring back great memories from my teenage years when they were only a short walk from home. One huge beech tree in the centre of the woods became a playground for me and my

friends. Armed with a long climbing rope, we set up a humungous rope swing, so large that we wore a harness in order to stay safe. I remember swinging so high I could touch the leaves of the trees in the canopy and it felt like I was flying. Sometimes when I visit the woods now, I return to this tree to give thanks for the joy it gave us.

Made up of predominantly sweet chestnut and beech, it is a good place for a bit of foraging. Chestnuts encapsulated in their prickly cases fall from the trees and await their fate; food to sustain the woods resident mammals through the winter, snacks for us humans on a foraging mission or indeed their intended purpose of growing into the next generation of chestnut trees.

Since bringing my bounty home (only a few, as to leave enough for nature and other humans) I have discovered at least 2 already had residents in the form of some kind of burrowing insect that left piles of chestnut shavings on my counter top at home. Leaving those to be enjoyed by their inhabitants, I roasted the rest and enjoyed my tasty snack, hopefully as much as the other creatures.