Bridford Wood is almost empty. It’s raining and only a few intrepid dog walkers are emptying their dogs along the River Teign.
I’ve been here before, in spring, when it was bursting with life.
The reflections today, in the slow-flowing water, are of yellowing leaves:
In spring it’s the bright yellow of the native daffodils which is the most distinctive feature.
Watching autumn appear in a woodland is fascinating. Seeing which leaves turn brown first and wondering what made them the first to turn is intriguing.
What possessed these leaves to start autumn early?
They are so completely, beautifully, brown against the lushness of the rest of the tree.
I want to come here every day and trace the changing of the colours, but I don’t.
In autumn there’s a different profusion of growth, as puffballs sprout from the dead tree stumps here. These are the Stump Puffball, Lycoperdon pyriforme:
They will soon be pumping great clouds of dark ochre-green spores into the air with every raindrop which falls on them.
Lycoperdon means wolf-fart. It’s a great name.