It’s that time of year when the trees are silhouettes that let the light through the branches, the mist hovers over the fields, the sunshine tries to break through. Time to wrap up and hear the ground crackle under the walking boots.
It’s that time of year when the trees are silhouettes that let the light through the branches, the mist hovers over the fields, the sunshine tries to break through. Time to wrap up and hear the ground crackle under the walking boots.