The simple pleasures of waking on crisp autumn days, 

Cold air mixed with acrid but strangely comforting scents of cordite and woodsmoke 

Lingering from bright warming bonfires and even brighter fireworks

My feet stir the leaves and seed husks, sweet chestnut, some others besides

No breeze disturbes the trees

Yet all around a quiet rain in dry golden browns falls 

I look up into the branches above

Catching whispered words

From natures beautiful voice

Delicately spoken.

Sunlight catches turning all things to blaze

And I no longer feel the cold

Rooted to this spot

Ankle deep in autumnal splendour 

Smiling to myself

I want for nothing more than this