A low cloud of fog filled the ground of the open forest. It came in around my ankles. I could see the fall trees extending out their arms to greet me as I entered their domain. I could see some shadows among the jagged rocks.
I heard the light trickle of the brook calling for me to have a taste. As I walked to go to the brook, I could hear dry leaves crunching below my shoes. I could see the brook with its gleaming water. The sun reflected off it as it broke through the trees.
I plopped my hand into the cold water. It looked so fresh and crisp, I couldn’t bare not to drink it. I cupped my hands and pushed them into the cold, refreshing water. I pulled them out with a small pond in my hands and drank it. The water wet my dry mouth, and it was my fall experience.
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