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Walking in the rain.

The wind whistles across the heath, Stopping abruptly by the spiny gorse leaf, Heather flowers shimmer as the gusts touchdown, With a pony or cow not to be found. The rain taps the leaves of the swaying branches, And that's where the animals are taking their chances. Ponies stood backed up to trees, Heads low and standing at ease. Not so far from the pony shelter, Cows lay up, It's a lovely encounter Walking in wellies and waterproof, My rustling and splashing sends a deer 'on the hoof.' My wanderings stepped faster than usual, When a sound behind me made me look back. Trees were bending and groaning, Then suddenly a CRACK! A bough crashes to the ground, Foliage and acorns scattered around. I quickened my step out of the woods, With crunching of nuts where I stood. Wind and rain beat against my face, Refreshing and exfoliating, As against the elements, I turned and braced.

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