Autumn

Just a quick piece based around the attached photo

      The air - cool and crisp - fills the area with the damp smell of autumn, The hazy morning dew hanging like silk sheets off the barren branches, while the ground is blanketed in a heavy, patch-work quilt of oranges and yellows.

      The still quiet echoing through the empty trees and sleepy dens. The hushness encompassing the atmosphere, seeping into the bones of the forest. The warm summer sun long settled into its overcasted slumber as the brisk touch of autumn gracefully steps in. His cold shivering breath welcoming the comforts of the warmth of nutmeg and cinnamon. Their fragrant hominess a perfect companion to the cozies of the crackle of a fire.  

Reviews

[charlie]

It's a cliché, (those horrible cul-de-sacs of language) but still ... less is more. Sometimes leaving space between descriptors can help the picture emerge more clearly. It can stand on its own, without getting lost underneath all the rigging and scaffolds, and it can stand out all the more because of it. "...hanging like silk sheets off barren branches" is lovely.