Deep in the woods, the hillsides were surprisingly steep. A massive Atlantic Oak tree had lost its footing in an ancient storm, and its great trunk now made a wonderful horizontal perch for a fluffy bird, or for any other creature who happened to come along. It was covered in soft, deep mosses and lichens, and young ferns were springing up along the old branches, turning them green once again.


Algy decided that he needed a better vantage point from which to admire the view, so he was delighted to find a fallen silver birch – a casualty of last winter’s storms. It provided an excellent perch, and the autumn sunshine warmed the feathers on his back, but from the colours of the sky he knew that the beautiful golden light could not last very long.